


The Head and the Heart

by froyobro



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Apartment AU, Awkward, BUT THERES FLIRTING, Eric Bittle - Freeform, Fluff, Jack Zimmermann - Freeform, Kent Parson - Freeform, Kent Parson cheats, M/M, SMH squad, Ugh, but he gets redeemed, hashtag awkwardness, i love my trash son so i take care of him dont worry, it gets p fluffy, just a warning, not the basis for friendship, only a little hockey, seriously, shaking my head, smh, teeth-rotting fluff, why am i even posting this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-08-07 05:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7702471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froyobro/pseuds/froyobro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric "Bitty" Bittle is an aspiring baker in Boston trying to stake his claim in the world. One day, a greek god moves next door to him. Nothing is the same after that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Greek Gods Walk the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Goodness. I'm already working on another fic that I'm behind on. But I got in such a /groove/ writing this. It probably isn't that great but I have my best girl, Morgan, to thank for convincing me to post it. I'm guessing it will be around ten to twelve chapters. I really should focus on summer reading. Oh, well. Here's some angsty, fluffy stuff for you guys. Enjoy!

Eric Richard Bittle was barely surviving a life out of college as it was. Scrapping together money on shit jobs just so he could have enough to get the ball rolling for his dream bake shop is _so_  difficult. He needed to buy a place with prime real estate and get _some_  sort of equipment together. He also needed to do a bunch of other really important stuff but--he's not there yet. All he had to work towards was his two jobs and a possible real estate prospect. And, like, level negative five patience.

 

Then these two pricks came along. 

 

The apartment building that Eric ('Bitty', as his college friends referred to him) lived at offered cheap rent and hot water for at least seventeen consecutive minutes. It was basically down the street from the hustle and bustle from Boston, so Bitty felt he got a steal. 

 

He was walking back from the Dunkin' Donuts down the street with his caramel macchiato in hand when he arrived at the "lobby" (it really was just a small room with a front desk) of the building. 

 

Two Adonis-looking dudes were talking to Johnson, the receptionist. (He was the apartment building owner's nephew (Why did the apartment building even have a receptionist?).)

 

"So let me get this straight," Johnson said to the really tall, really hot guys, conveniently loud enough for Bitty to hear. "You guys are a couple, have been for a few years, but--"

 

The blond god finished, "We're not ready to move in together. It's such a commitment and," a light touch to the black-haired cutie's elbow, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "Jackie boy probably wouldn't be able to deal with my hygiene habits." 

 

Jackie (apparently) adds, deadpan, "Don't you mean lack thereof?"   

 

The couple chuckled and Bitty walked around them up the stairs, waving halfheartedly at Johnson who responded in kind, his head resting in the hand unoccupied. 

 

Bits could have taken the elevator but then he'd have to wait five minutes for it to come down to the lobby and probably make eye contact with either of those inhuman beauties and he just couldn't handle that. Not today, of all days. 

 

His offer for this quaint empty building in the middle of a Boston square was rejected and Bitty was devastated. He already offered more than he was willing (or able) to pay.   

 

He was yet to text his college group chat, but his phone kept buzzing every other minute. They knew Bitty would find out today whether or not the offer went through (which it didn't (which is why Bitty refused to make eye contact with the Hottie Twins)). He resolved to text them all after a nice seventeen and a half minute shower. 

 

As he was trying to physically wipe away his disappointment, Eric Richard Bittle heard the door next to his apartment open for the first time in months (the last guy to live there was Johnson, who now had a room adjacent to the lobby. That dude did some weird shit at two in the morning so Bitty he was gone).   

 

He knew at that moment, as the shower water soon turned cold and pricked his back like icicles and he yelped and leaped out of the shower with no grace whatsoever, that his life was about to get a whole lot more complicated. 

 

The whole knocking down his shower curtains and then slamming his head on the sink in the tiny bathroom fiasco was just the epic omen he needed to prove it.   

 

Apparently, the walls were thin on the other side, too.   

 

"What the _fuck_  was that?"   

 

See? Blond guy voice. "I _knew_  it," Bitty muttered, wincing as his fingers delicately swiped across the tiny welt on his forehead.   

 

There was some muttering and then a knock on Bitty's door. 

 

Here was the dilemma: Bitty was still in his bathroom, vulnerably naked, trying to nurse his head bump and fix the curtains that fell. And he couldn't find one fucking clean towel. 

 

"My mama raised me better than this!" He whispered angrily to himself, then yelled to the door, "Whoever y'all are, I'm fine! No need to worry. Go on home!"   

 

There was more muffled speaking, then the blond called out, "Dude, are you seriously okay? We just wanna double check. It sounded like some sort of tumble went down." 

 

Bitty let out a high, quick, very fake laugh. "Oh no, I'm just a clutz is all! Hit my head on the sink while trying to grab something in the bottom drawer!" 

 

"Jackie" now cut in. "You hit your head? You might have a concussion. I'd feel better if I could make sure you're okay." 

 

"Damn you, Jackie," Bitty mumbled.   

 

"What was that?" 

 

"I'll open the door in a second!" 

 

First, throw on sweatpants and shake your hair out like a dog. Next, hide most of the baking supplies. Well, the ones that could fit in the meager cupboards. Finally,  find a t-shirt that doesn't have flour on it.   

 

Before he could finish his last task, more grumbling and insistent knocking came from the door. "I'm _indecent_!"  

 

Despite this, Bitty opened his door in an angry huff and crossed his arms over his chest protectively.   

 

He looked up as two incredibly hot guys blanched at him. Literally, jaws dropped. At first, Bitty was extremely flattered despite his annoyance. Until Jackie pushed him back inside his apartment and sat him down at his own couch.  

"You might have a concussion." He took out his phone and turned on the flashlight, pointing it right into Bitty's eyes. Ouch. "Follow the light," he instructed. 

 

"I thought in medical instances it's recommended to do the opposite," Bitty quipped. Blondie, still standing in the doorway, laughed borderline-obnoxiously. Jackie just huffed a breath that could be a chuckle if you had super hearing. 

 

Finally, the devil light was turned off and Jackie got up from his kneeling position in front of Bitty. "No concussion, but you're gonna have major bruising and you should definitely see a doctor to make sure it's gonna be okay."   

 

Bitty nodded and covered his forehead with his head. Oh my goodness, the lump seemed to be getting bigger by the second. He mentally berated himself. Of course these two were only freaking out about his major face monster. Like they _actually_ thought he was cute. Pft.   

 

Bitty was internally cringing, but when he opened his eyes, he cringed externally. The two dudes--too big in his apartment, really--were at a loss for what to do next. So, Bitty forced himself off the couch and offered his arm out to either one of them. "Hi, I'm Eric Bittle. Your...uh, next door neighbor, I guess!" He tried to diffuse the awkward with a smile.   

 

It seemed to work. Blondie took Bitty's hand and shook it as if trying to take his wrist off, with a charming (almost _too_ charming) smile. "Kent Parson. I work at the gym a few blocks away. This is Jack Zimmermann, my boyfriend and private personal trainer for famous athletes."  

 

Jack looked uncomfortable at his own introduction. "Kent--" 

 

"What? I like to brag about you."   

 

Jack's cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he looked down at the ground with a small smile. 

 

"We'll be out of your hair now, Bittle. Still got a _ton_ of unpacking to do. Nice meeting ya." Kent punched his shoulder playfully and pulled Jack out the apartment by his sleeve. Jack smiled sheepishly as if to apologize for his boyfriend and faithfully followed.   

 

"What the fuck?" Bitty muttered. 

 

In the apartment next door, Kent shook his head and glanced at the wall connecting him to Eric Bittle, and muttered to Jack, "what the fuck?"  

 

(When the college group chat heard of Kent and Jack, they were adequately distracted from Bitty's failure of not nailing a place for a bakery. But the one thing that reminded him that his friends were the best things in his life was that each one privately messaged him and offered any help they could give.) 


	2. And the Plot Immediately Thickens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kent Parson has sex. Bitty is appalled. Cue to Bits wearing bunny slippers in public.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have the first nine chapters wrapped up so I'm just going to post them all here today. I always hated waiting for fics to update, so you all can get a ton of stuff before you have to wait another week for me to finish! Don't worry: in this chapter there are no explicit diddly-doing.

There wasn't another Incident concerning the pair of male models for another two weeks. Sometimes Bitty would chat with Jack if they were ever in the elevator at the same time, or shortly greet Kent if ever they crossed paths, but that was it.

 

And then at two in the morning, Bitty woke up to an earthquake. His room was shaking, almost rhythmically. "Cruel world, couldn't you wait until I get my beauty sleep!" Bitty quietly yelled at the ceiling, still trying to crawl back into the cocoon of sleep. 

 

Through his dreamy haze, Bitty finally heard it. A moan. Long, low, guttural. Oh, fuck. Kent and Jack were going at it. Bitty decidedly did /not/ want to hear this (a voice in the back of his head objected but he ignored it). 

He got up and walked around his apartment, trying to find a place where his ears were safe from the sexual onslaught occurring next door. Since his living space was cheap and crappy, there was no safe place. Bitty whined and stomped his foot, grabbing a coat and sliding into his bunny slippers and forcing himself out of the apartment. He tapped his foot impatiently in front of the elevator doors, as if that would speed up it's ascent. While he was waiting, he decided to tweet about this. 

 

"My neighbors are worse than rabbits. #helpme"

 

Not life-changing, unsurprisingly. Bitty didn't care. The elevator finally dinged open and Bittle was one foot in when he heard another yell of ecstasy in the Apartment of Sin. The thing that made him stop, though? 

 

It was definitely a woman. 

 

~~~

 

Six hours and two-and-a-half pumpkin-spice lattes later, Bitty was sitting across from one of his closest friends at Dunkin, who was undoubtedly judging his bedtime attire. "Bunny slippers? Really?"

 

"Lards. I cannot go back to my apartment," Bitty said shakily. His hands were white-knuckled around his third latte. 

 

"I gathered that much from the text. What happened, man?"

 

Short interlude: A brief summary of Larissa "Lardo" Duan: she is an incredible artist, currently dating her college sweetheart who's at Harvard right now, best friend of Eric Bittle, and She is _always_ Better Than You.

 

"Okay," Eric finally whispered out. He leaned closer to Lardo. "I was woken up at two in the morning. Turns out Kent--"

 

"The too-charming blond one," Lardo clarified.

 

"Yeah, him--He and what I assumed was Jack were--you know--"

 

"Going at it like rabbits. I read your twitter like any other sane person."

 

Bitty nodded, continuing. "I was halfway in the elevator when I heard this _really loud_ moan--"

 

"Bits, I know you're pure, but I expected you knew what happened when two people love each other very much." She pouted animatedly. 

 

"Lardo. He's dating a guy, but--"

 

"Oh my gosh he was cheating on the black-haired beautifully sad-eyed guy with a girl. Wow. That sucks."

 

"How--how did you--"

 

"You said 'but' after stating an obvious fact. I just connected the dots."

 

"You scare me sometimes," Eric said incredulously, taking a long sip from his drink. "And stop interrupting me!" 

 

Lardo just smirked.

 

"So," she broke the silence first. "You gotta tell Jack."

 

"I know."

 

"You don't want to."

 

"STOP READING MY MIND, WEIRDO."

 

Lardo sighed. "It's written all over your face."

 

Bitty buried his face in his hands.

 

"It's just--I live next to this guy. He's really big and tall and works at a gym. I really /can't/ move out because I'll never find a place like that again near Boston without paying a shit-ton." Lardo just looked at him expectantly. She knew he had more to say. "So that's scary. I told you how the kids were when I was younger. I came up north to escape that. And," Bitty reluctantly continued because he knew Lardo wouldn't stop prodding until he spilled _everything_ , "Jack is really nice. And I don't want to be the one to break his heart."

 

"And you don't want him to be angry at /you/." 

 

"Exactly."

 

"So you want it to happen in its own time--butt out of the situation and take the easy route, basically." 

 

"...Yeah."

 

Lardo finally took a bite out of her previously untouched muffin. "That won't work out." 

 

"So what do you suppose I do, Sherlock?" Eric quipped sarcastically.

 

Lardo made a show of stretching her arms and raising one eyebrow at him, saying, "Watson, we are going to save the sad-eyed boy." 

 

~~~

 

Lardo's plans always worked, Bitty thought to himself while leaning on the tips of his toes and trying to expel the nervous energy as he stood in front of Kent Parson's apartment door. Granted, all of Lardo's plans have been pranks on obnoxiously stupid LAX bros. 

 

Steeling himself, Bitty knocked on the door with as much conviction as he could muster. 

 

Kent opened the door wearing only sweatpants, set low on his waist. Bitty was too upset and nervous to appreciate the sight.

 

"Sup," Kent said casually. 

 

Bitty froze. His mouth would not open. Then, he heard a taunting voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Lardo, and so he stood taller and looked straight into Kent's eyes.

 

"I know you cheated on Jack and I don't think it's fair to lead him on so please just end the affair or break up with Jack." Bitty watched as Kent's eyes went through many emotions: confusion, fear, anger, and barely-concealed panic. 

 

"Look, man, I don't know what you heard but--"

 

"You woke me up at two in the morning yesterday with your bedroom shenanigans so it is technically my business. And you may not have heard what I heard but I heard a very distinct womanly voice as I was forced to exit my building. Please," Bitty added softly because it was _really_ uncomfortable being that harsh to a person without being passive aggressive (Lardo suggested to be upfront so there would be no miscommunication). "Just do the right thing. For everyone."

 

Bitty nodded to himself and turned to walk to his apartment. 

 

He tried not to jump when the door slammed closed. 

 

 

(Lardo texted him later, asking for details. He told her that Kent gave no definitive answer and she just grunted and said, "At least you didn't take the angsty route." 

"You sounded _just_ like Johnson there.") 

 


	3. The Truth is a Powerful Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Bitty get stuck in an elevator. Truths are told, but not the ones you'd expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok. So. I realize now my pacing for the angst is just too much all at once. I bet all of you are getting whip-lash with all that's going on. Gonna let you know now, there's like some sort of angst in every chapter. I don't know why I'm like this. The pain just hurts so good.
> 
> Sidenote: Don't worry, Lardo is a complex character. I know she seems all impenetrable (heh) and superior but her insecurities and personal flaws will be fleshed out in future chapters. And the frogs will make an appearance by at least chapter 10 (sorry). 
> 
> P.P.S: Lardo and Johnson definitely have fights on whose grasp on meta is better. Like. They're super tite, but argue which is the best route for Bitty's narrative. 
> 
> OMG also yes in this universe Bitty does have a younger brother (Jamie!! I loved that discourse about him!!)
> 
> Sorry this was long. Enjoy, guys, gals and nonbinary pals!

Bitty saw Jack three days later in the elevator, heading back home after a grueling day in sales. He immediately pretended to be immersed in his phone. 

 

"Hey, Eric."

 

"Hey, Jack."

 

"Did you see the Habs last night?"

 

That was a thing they had in common--a love for hockey. Both of them played in college but never continued afterwards. 

 

"Uh, yeah," Bitty tried to look distracted as he glanced up but his eyes caught on Jack's eyes. G-d, they were so beautiful. He quickly brought his head back down, saying something about how the offense was probably doing better than it had all season. 

 

Jack nodded in agreement, then asked, "Hey, is everything all right?" 

 

"Uh--" 

 

The elevator came to a stop. They both looked at the doors expectantly, but it took longer than normal for them to open. That was when the lights started to flicker. "Shit," Bitty swore. He slid to the ground. Last time he was trapped in this stupid elevator, it took three hours for firefighters to get him out. It brought him back to a bad place. A place he left six years ago. He slowly breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. Jack crouched next to him, examining him exactly like the first day they met. "Are you okay?" 

 

Bitty just caved in more on himself. "Give me a second." 

 

After a few quiet minutes, Jack permanently seated himself next to Bitty. Promptly after, the lights shut off completely. At least the strobe light action had stopped. Bitty--not thinking before acting--shot his hand out and clutched at Jack's sleeve for comfort. 

 

A few more minutes, and Jack broke the silence, "I'm guessing you're not a big fan of small spaces." 

 

Bitty snorted and tried to wipe the tears away with his free hand. Jack had already turned that damned flashlight on his phone on, but just let the phone lay on the ground with the light facing the ceiling (that was the only thing both of those were good for anymore since there was absolutely no signal whatsoever to get help; they set the alarm and heard Johnson yell at them to sit tight, but they both knew it'd be a while). Bitty suspected Jack saw and pointedly ignored the tears. 

 

Bitty's fingers, one by one, loosened their grip on Jack's nice button-up shirt. He probably had a date with Kent. Bitty was trying to think of things besides his past, so he asked Jack exactly that. 

 

"Yeah. I got us a reservation at this real nice place downtown but I'm guessing it's been revoked or something. I don't know. Is that how reservations work?" 

 

Bitty snorted again, wrapping his arms around his bunched up legs and resting his head on his knees (take a shot every time he said 'his'). 

 

There was silence and Bits really couldn't deal with silence. 

 

"I'm sorry I'm being such a spazz. It's just--never mind." 

 

Jack watched him intently as Bitty talked. When he became quiet, Jack urged him on. "Eric--I mean. You told me to call you Bitty. Bittle? Uh. Anyways. We're friends, right?" 

 

Eric just nodded, his chin knocking loosely against knobby knees. 

 

"You can tell me. I won't--make fun of you or judge you or whatever you think I'd do. You know that, don't you?" 

 

Bitty stayed quiet for a little, letting the quiet stretch for no more than a minute. 

 

Jack, by that time, had sighed and made himself comfortable against the elevator wall. When he heard Bitty speak, however, he sat straight up. 

 

"Ok. So, if you couldn't tell by my accent, I'm from down south. Football is a religion down there. My dad was captain at my old high school, so he obviously made me join the local team." 

 

Jack nodded encouragingly, making sure Eric knew he could continue. "I'm kind of obviously gay, too." He blushed at the admittance, even though Jack is _obviously_ not straight either. "Anyways, my teammates didn't like a "disturbed kid like me" on their team." 

 

"But they couldn't say anything to the coach because your _dad_ was the coach." 

 

"Yeah." 

 

Eric took another deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth. Thinking of it made him feel even more trapped, but he was already too far in. 

 

"So, after practice, my dad had to be somewhere with my mom and younger brother, and I had to walk home." Bitty cracked a sad smile. "Never got home that night." 

 

He looked up at Jack, whose brows were furrowed in worry, he could tell even in the weak refraction of light. Bitty turned his eyes back to his feet. "They shoved me in my tiny locker for a night and my dad got me in the morning." 

 

That damned elevator got quiet again. 

 

Bitty tried to make his voice light. "Hey, at least I didn't have to play _football_ again. And it led to hockey, so I guess it inadvertently changed my life for the better." 

 

Bitty didn't look up, but could feel Jack's burning gaze on him. "I'm so sorry, Bittle." 

 

Eric smiled as big as he could muster to ease Jack, but he could feel Jack's anger radiating from him. "Jack, don't you worry. It was so long ago." 

 

"I can be mad if I wanna." 

 

Bitty snorted. "You sound like a Canadian toddler." 

 

A mischievous glint overtook Jack's sad eyes as their eyes locked and he said, "Who says I'm--" 

 

In the middle of his sentence, a banging was heard outside the doors. "Anybody in there?" An unfamiliar voice called out. 

 

"Yeah!" They both said at the same time. 

 

"Uh," Bitty continued with a pointed look from Jack, "Eric Bittle and Jack Zimmermann are in here." 

 

"Oh thank G-d." 

 

Kent was out there. 

 

Jack shot up to the door and called out, "Hey Kenny, sorry about dinner." 

 

"I don't give a shit, are you okay?" 

 

"Yeah. Eric's good too, just a little freaked out." 

 

"Cool," Kent said, but he said it like it was completely Not-Cool. 

 

Another twenty minutes, and the doors were pried open. Johnson stood there with his arms crossed and shrugged when Bitty glared at him. "It had to happen for the further increase of angst in the plot since Lardo got in the way. You'll see." 

 

"What?" But no one was paying attention and soon Jack and Kent headed back to the apartments, but not before Jack sent a half-wave goodbye his way. 

 

Bitty hated that his heart fluttered. 

 

~~~ 

 

As soon as he was back in the apartment, Bitty cranked up Beyoncé and connected his Bluetooth. He was determined from now on not to hear things when Kent had people over. 

 

The anxiety from being stuck in the elevator was still in his system, so Bitty did what he did best: stress-baking. Bopping his hips to Queen Bey, he managed to make three pies and was starting on his fourth when there was an insistent knock on his door. 

 

Bits turned the music down so that he could barely hear it and opened the door to see Jack. 

 

An angry Jack. 

 

"You knew?" 

 

Bitty's mouth dropped. This could not be happening. As he stared at Jack, he heard glass breaking in the apartment over. 

 

"Uh...." was all he could get out before Jack pointed at Kent's door. 

 

"You _knew_? And we were stuck in that fucking elevator for over an hour! I thought we were friends." Jack punched the wall next to Bitty's face and Bitty flinched so hard tears fell. Jack looked worried for a second, but he shook his head and stalked down the hallway. 

 

He took the stairs. 

 

(Bitty was openly crying now, angry that he cared that Jack was angry at him. Angry at himself because he /still/ didn't do the right thing. Angry that a little part of him hoped Jack and Kent were officially broken up. It wouldn't have mattered anyways. "Fuck," Bitty muttered to himself.

 

In another room, Kent chugged straight from a grey goose vodka bottle, one he was planning earlier to share with Jack. One he never will. He threw plates, even though his mom /just/ sent them over. The shattering sound it made felt painful but also made Kent feel that he had some sort of power for once. "Fuck," he muttered, taking another swig.) 


	4. Warning: Puke Will Be Used for Personal Gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Kenny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. In this chapter you really see I love my boy Parser. Man. That guy. Look at that guy. He fucked up. And I love him so much.

Bitty didn't know what happened, what to do. So he just turned off his playlist and sat on the couch in silence. Ten minutes later, there was another set of knocking and Bitty wouldn't be able to stomach it if it was Jack again.

 

When he opened the door, however, it was Kent who marched himself into the room like he owned it. He reeked of alcohol and his eyes were red and a little swollen. 

 

"I fucked up. I fucking fucked up." He began pacing. 

 

"Fuck. I lost him. Fuck. I'm so fucking stupid." 

 

Bitty shut his door, then sat back down on his couch and watched as Kent moved around in his apartment. Kent was muttering in a drunken haze, when he turned on his heel and pointed accusingly at Bitty. 

 

"It's your fault. If you hadn't guilted me into telling him, things wouldn't be so fucked." 

 

The short blond blanched. "/My/ fault? /I'm/ not the one who cheated." 

 

Kent collapsed on he couch and buried his head in his hands. "I thought you told him in the elevator, because he was talking about how he was angry because of something you mentioned in the elevator, so I thought you spilled the fucking beans and then I said that I was sorry and I would end it. And he was so confused and I could have stopped there but--" he sniveled, "--but I didn't because I love him and he deserved to know. And he asked how long and I said one-and-a-half years. And I started dating him /five/ years ago. And I told him it was his fault because he knew I was fucked up even though it wasn't his fault. I said that he was lucky I lasted for three years with just him. G-d. It's all my fault. And then he broke up with me and marched to your place and apparently punched a wall and I got drunk and threw stuff." 

 

Bitty hated Kent Parson. For hurting Jack, for making Jack mad at him. But he also knew no one was perfect and everyone needed someone at their lowest points. 

 

That was the only explanation he could make in his head as he handed over a slice of blueberry pie to the crying man on his couch. He looked up, sniffled once, and muttered a thanks before digging in. 

 

Bitty didn't know what to do after that, but it was okay because they sat in silence until all the blueberry pie was gone and Kent Parson fell asleep on Eric Bittle's couch. 

 

(He puked on Bitty's floor in the morning. It was the color of blueberry pie. It was disgusting. Bits sent a pic to Lardo without caption.) 

 

(Lardo used it in an art instillation a month later and made three hundred dollars off of it.) 


	5. His Hand and Heart to Hold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack realizes he fucked up. Bitty realizes he fucked up. SMH group chat realizes they need to fuck up all together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Papa Ginos isn't all over America? And Dunkin' Donuts aren't on every street corner? I'm glad I live in New England bc all of you are missing out on those blessings.

After that, Kent knocked on Bitty's door about once a week, just wanting company and pies. 

 

Despite wanting to make sure Kent never dates Jack again, he still gave the best advice he could. 

 

"He won't answer my calls or texts," Kent said somberly, staring down at his half-eaten cherry pie. 

 

Bitty cleared his throat and became suddenly very focused on folding his laundry. "What would you tell him?" He asked, nonchalantly, of course. 

 

"That I'm sorry. That I want to try and fix what I can. Accept what I can't. I don't know, Bits." He suddenly looked up, desperation clear in his whatever-colored eyes. "I just want to see him, to hear his voice again. I just miss him. I just--" He stopped and sighed angrily. 

 

"Kenny," Bitty said sternly. "For now, you can't do anything about it. Focus on yourself. Focus on being better, for Jack's sake." 

 

"Oh yeah?" He replied with a cynical sneer, snark dripping with every word. "And how would I do that?" 

 

Bitty, mid-shirt fold, turned to Kent and glared at him. 

 

The taller blond relented. "Sorry." 

 

"That's part of your problem. You're always on the defense, even when people aren't trying to attack you. So you lash out with your words. You don't think, you just say it." Bitty snorted at a thought that popped into his head. "Honey, you need a filter." 

 

Kent let out a half-hearted chuckle. He finished his pie in silence, said a quick and quiet "thanks Bits, see ya," and went back to his own apartment. 

 

Bitty continued working, looking for potential bakery spots (with no luck), hanging with his friends, and altogether trying not to think about Jack. About what he was doing. If he was still mad. If he was okay. 

 

~~~ 

 

It was one of those days where he felt particularly guilty for any and every thing to go wrong in his life. So, he made plans with Ransom, Holster, Lardo, and Shitty (who had break currently) that day to get his mind off himself. They planned on going bowling and then dropping by the rink to mess around. 

 

Bitty was just finishing covering up the now-faint bruise on his forehead (a constant, painful reminder, really) when he heard knocking. 

 

"Be there in a sec, y'all! Just gotta put my face on, s'all!" He joked. 

 

Someone cleared their throat. "Um. Eric. It's me--" 

 

Jack. 

 

"Look, can we talk?" 

 

Bitty quickly put all his concealer away and sprinted to the door, almost slipping on the hardwood floor. 

 

He yanked open the door and saw a sweaty Jack Zimmermann staring down at him, eyebrows furrowed in worry and anxiety. 

 

Bitty couldn't find his voice for a minute. He was just so--so beautiful. "Uh, hi Jack." He could feel all the guilt swirling in his stomach all over again. He wanted to run. G-d. Why him? 

 

"Can I..." Jack moved his eyes to the inside of his apartment as a signal. 

 

"Oh! Uh, sure!" Bitty opened the door wider and watched as Jack sat down in the place where he knelt in front of Bitty the first time they met. 

 

"Do you... want some pie?" 

 

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Uh. I'm good for now. Thanks." 

 

Bitty nodded and leaned against his counter, trying (and failing) to act and look casual. 

 

Jack cleared his throat and looked down at his hands, having a thumb war with himself. "Look, I wanted to apologize, and--" 

 

Just then, yelling and whooping came from down the hallway and Bitty buried his face in his hands. Without looking at Jack because the embarrassment and _perfect_ timing probably tinged his cheeks and the tops of his ears, he said, "Jack. I'm sorry. My friends, we were going to--" 

 

"BITTSSSSSSSS! OPEN THE FUCKIN' DOOR!!! WE'RE GONNA GET SHITFACED!" 

 

Bitty winced when he made eye contact with a confused Jack, and regretfully dragged his feet to the door. Tons of knocking and yelling could be easily heard. When he opened the door, everyone tumbled in. 

 

They all enveloped Bits because they were sentimental shits but Bitty tried to wriggle out and make his group aware of the unexpected addition. 

 

When they looked up, they saw Jack and made a defensive stance in front of Bitty who rolled his eyes so hard they almost fell out of his head. 

 

"Sup." Shits said, looking unsure and standing directly in front of Bitty. "Are you the one who punched the wall?" 

 

"Shitty! You don't--" 

 

"Yeah." 

 

Bitty pushed Shitty out from in front of him and spared an apologetic glance at Jack before trying to push all the people out of his tiny apartment. "Guys. It's okay. He just wanted to talk to me. Nothing wrong. Wait outside." 

 

Lardo raised an eyebrow at Jack first, then at Bitty. "Don't take too long. I can't wait to beat the fuck out of you guys in bowling." 

 

Bitty glared at her and gave one last shove, slamming the door and then leaning against it and taking a deep breath with eyes closed. 

 

"Sorry," Eric slowly breathed out. "They're a little overprotective." 

 

"I get it," Jack says while scratching his hair with one hand. It was disgustingly cute. 

 

"So, you wanted to talk?" Bitty locked the door and then sat at the opposite end of the couch. 

 

Jack cleared his throat again. "Yeah. Kent ambushed me at work earlier today." Bitty rolled his eyes. Of course Kenny would do something desperate and stupid like that. "He told me he was sorry and how he--it doesn't matter. Anyways, he also told me about what you told him." 

 

Bitty stared down at his hands. "I didn't want to tell you directly. I felt it was none of my business and--and I didn't want to be the one to hurt you." He didn't bother to look up at Jack, but continued nonetheless. "I know it's cowardly. I _know_. I just--I couldn't. I hope you understand. I'm sorry." That burning sensation behind his eyes started again so he squeezed his hands together forcefully. His mind instead focused on that. 

 

For a while, it was quiet. Then a large hand covered both of Bitty's and Jack's deep voice said, "Thank you. And, I really am sorry. I was acting out. I was angry." It was silent for another beat. "I paid for the wall damage, by the way." 

 

Bitty looked up at him and cracked a smile. He covered Jack's hand with his two, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go and walking to the door. 

 

"Wanna come bowling?" 

 

~~~

 

Ransom and Holster immediately took to Jack. "You're a personal trainer?" 

 

"Do you know Tom Brady?" 

 

"David Beckham?" 

 

"P.K. Subban?" 

 

"And you tell them what to do? You just boss professional athletes around?" 

 

Jack didn't know what to do with all the questions. "Um. I have met a lot of professional athletes, but I don't see my job as "bossing them around" as much as--" 

 

"Dude," Holster (rudely) interjected. "How much do you get paid a year?" After a particularly brutal punch from Bitty, he rubbed his shoulder with a pout and added, "I mean. If you're okay with telling us." 

 

Jack shrugged, and grinned at Bitty when he hit Holster. "I get paid around two million a year." 

 

Shitty pretended to faint in Lardo's lap. Ransom turned from his spot at the bowling starting line and dropped his ball dramatically. Bitty watched as it went off to the side. 

 

That's a lot of money, Bitty thought. 

 

"Bro," Lardo, Holster, Shitty, and Ransom said at the exact same time. Bitty could only stare in shock, watching the bowling ball recede (he would die before he said "bro" because southerners have _class_. 

 

Jack shrugged, a small blush on his cheeks as he grabbed his own blue bowling ball and passed Ransom, who was walking like a zombie. 

 

Of course, he got a strike. Everyone else was still in a state of shock when Jack sat back down next to Bitty and nudged his shoulder. "Your turn, Bittle." 

 

Bitty finally snapped out of his stupor and quickly stood up. Jack turned to everyone else and said in a deadpan tone, "You guys should probably close your mouths. A few flies have flown in and out." 

 

Four jaws shut closed at the same time and glared at Jack. Then Shitty raised an eyebrow. "Did you just _chirp_ us?" 

 

A side of Jack's mouth quirked but he shrugged as if having no idea what Shitty was talking about. 

 

Shits got up and slung an arm around his shoulders and said, "You fuckin' _beaut._ " 

 

~~~

 

Lardo won (obviously), but Jack was only three points away from victory. He didn't seem too beat up about it. 

 

They all went to Papa Gino's for lunch and chowed down five pizzas between the six of them. It was impressive how many slices Holster could fit in his horse-like mouth. Lardo laughed so hard water spilled out of her nose. Jack laughed so hard he fell out of his chair. Bitty laughed so hard he almost choked on a piece of (disgustingly delicious) garlic bread. 

 

They soon got kicked out for being "too rowdy." 

 

When they got to the rink, Jack and Bitty were complaining about how they forgot their skates and had to rent some. 

 

"They are always the _wrong_ size, even if they're your size," Jack said. 

 

Bitty nodded in fervent agreement. "And they always smell like a high school boys locker room!" 

 

" _Five_ locker rooms." 

 

"Exactly! My mama has never skated for that exact reason. Too prideful to buy her own skates anyways." 

 

Jack grinned as they tied their skates. "When was the last time you were on the ice?" He asked. 

 

"Hm." Bitty finished tying his skates and sat back. "Probably a year ago. You?" 

 

"Yesterday." 

 

Bitty glared at him. 

 

"What? I was working with a Bruins player!" 

 

Bitty leaned forward, interest sparking in his eyes. "Who?" 

 

Jack shook his head. "Patient confidentiality." 

 

"Patient?" Eric tried to hide his grin. 

 

Jack pushed him away playfully. "You know what I mean." 

 

"Oh yeah? Do I--" 

 

"Come on, losers," Lardo said as she got up and walked to the rink. Shits ruffled Bitty's hair and followed suit, grabbing Lardo's hand automatically. Ransom and Holster were deep in conversation about 30 Rock or the Office or something. Jack got up easily, but Bitty was a little wobbly so when Jack offered his hands, he took them gratefully. Only for the help, of course. No one had to know if Bitty kept his hands there one second longer than normal. 

 

When they got on the ice, Shits whooped and dared Bits to do one of his "pretty flips." He obliged, but clarified that it'd probably be wobbly because he hadn't practiced in a while. 

 

Which it was. But at least he didn't land on his ass. Bitty had fallen enough for a lifetime. 

 

(And he realized he was falling _again_ when he glanced up at Jack grinning, his cheeks red because of the cold and his dimples showing for the first time Bitty's seen without Kent around.) 


	6. It's Only Four?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friend Fun Day comes to an end :(

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SUCCKKKKK at summaries. From now on they're known as suckaries. Bc they suck that much.

They all walked out and the October chill didn't bother them nearly as much as before. "Nice and warm, eh?" Jack mused.

 

Ransom came up on the other side of Jack (Bitty was on one side) and said in shock, "Bro. You're Canadian." 

 

"Is that....a bad thing?" 

 

Ransom clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm from Toronto, man. Where you from?" 

 

"Montreal." 

 

" _Bro_." 

 

Jack grinned at him and they talked about how Americans bitch _way_ too much about bagged milk, among other things. Shits and Lardo then guided Bitty away from Jack's side (which Holster stole in  no time at all). 

 

"Bits," Shitty said with his voice lowered enough so the Canadians + Liz Lemon wouldn't hear. "I thought Jack was gonna be bad news. But he's cool. Keep him around." 

 

Bitty chuckled. "Thanks, Dad." 

 

"Don't sass me, son! I didn't raise you this way!" Shitty replied, using the mimic-y voice of his asshole dad. 

 

Lardo added, "He's not that bad. He should hang with us more since he's super rich and kind of fun." 

 

"Thanks, Larissa," Jack said, suddenly appearing behind them. Lardo just grinned at him. 

 

Shitty said, "Jackie boy, what is your thing with nicknames?" 

 

Jack shrugged one shoulder, and was about to speak, but the group stopped at the van. It was parked at Bitty's apartment because he was the only one to live relatively close to the fun stuff. 

 

"I guess this is me, guys," Bitty said regretfully. 

 

Everyone tackled him in another hug and each talked to him like no one else was there. 

 

"Write to me, my love!" 

 

"-and then we should see a movie and throw popcorn at couples making out." 

 

"Just one day. That's all I need to show you the first season of 30 Rock. That's _all_!" 

 

"Bro, consider this: clubbing. Get you some action!" 

 

Bitty just shooed them all off him. "Guys. I will contact all of you soon, don't worry. We have the group chat." 

 

"The group chat!" Shitty loudly stated. He ran to Jack and demanded his phone number, entering it in his phone frantically. "There. You're officially part of the Squad Group chat. Text about random shit or if you wanna hang out." 

 

Jack looked surprised. "Wow. Thanks, Knigh--Shitty." 

 

Shits looked like he was about to cry, then enveloped him in a hug. "My son!" 

 

Everyone else soon followed suit, dog-piling Jack, and gushed about random things. Bitty laughed because it was so darn cute. 

 

Once they all left, Jack and Bitty were left alone in the cold. 

 

"I apologize for my crazy friends," Bitty said with fake sincerity. 

 

Jack smiled. "They're awesome." 

 

It was quiet as they stared at their feet with smiles. 

 

"Well--" 

 

"I'm--" 

 

They both said "Sorry" at the same time. 

 

Jack looked at Eric expectantly. "Okay, thanks you jerk." Jack smiled even more. "What I was going to say was well, I guess I should go up. Kent's usually home by this time anyways, so we should part here." 

 

"I'm glad you invited me today--that's what I was gonna say." Jack clarified. 

 

Bitty grinned and stared up at him. "Everyone has friends like that. Maybe you should invite me to hang out with yours as payback." 

 

At that, Jack's smile slowly dropped and he focused back on his shoes. 

 

"You _do_ have other friends, right?" Bitty said it jokingly but there was an edge of worry in his voice. 

 

"Uh. Well. For the past five years I've had my parents, the people I train or work for, and Kent. I mean--" Jack tried to recover after seeing Bitty's horribly concealed look of abject horror, "--I still have my college friends. We talk on Facebook and stuff. Just, my network of people isn't exactly like yours." 

 

Bitty nodded in understanding but couldn't help but worry. Did Jack base his life around Kent? 

 

"It's freezing," Bitty finally said."I think I'm going to head up to my apartment. Do you want my number, so we can hang out sometime soon? I mean, if you--" 

 

"Yeah, sure." Jack took out his phone and traded it with Bitty's. Once their phones were returned to each other, there really wasn't anything to say. 

 

Except... 

 

"Why were you--" Bitty hesitated. "Why were you all...sweaty...when you arrived at my apartment." 

 

Jack sort of smiled. "Two reasons. One: I needed to get away from Kenny as soon as possible." Bitty laughed at that. Then, Jack's voice became softer. "Two: I had to see you." 

 

A beat of silence. Bitty had to digest that. 

 

"To, uh, you know, apologize. For being a major dick." 

 

Bitty nodded and smiled up at him. He turned to the door of his apartment building, and glanced back at Jack. "Good night, Mr. Zimmermann." 

 

"Bitty, It's four o'clock." 

 

He laughed. 

 

 

(Only when he got upstairs and shut his door did he realize that Jack called him "Bitty" for the first time.) 

 

 

 


	7. Is Love Enough?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty knows what's up and Kent knows Bitty knows what's up. But we all know Kent wishes otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this an interlude. I don't know. I guess I just like to torture myself with Kent Parson feels.   
> Also: Sorry, guys. Only platonic cuddling. Feel free to branch off and make this into a Parzimbits thing if you want tho!!

Jack Zimmermann was mostly a spectator in the group chat, but when he did make comments, everyone would scream because it was a surprise that he 1) texted and 2)said something genuinely thought-provoking, hilarious, or both. 

 

Jack Zimmermann was easy to talk to when he personally texted Eric Bittle. They would talk about Kent and Bitty would try to help Jack in any way he could (despite how much it hurt himself when Jack brought up that he hated that he still loved him). 

 

Jack Zimmermann frequently talked to Eric Bittle. About Kent, college, Kent, interests, and did he mention Kent? And, late at night, truths only previously revealed to the stars were whispered over the phone. 

 

Conclusively, Jack Zimmermann was always on Eric Bittle's phone. 

 

"What the fuck, Bittle?" 

 

Kent was in the living room while Bitty was making a peach cobbler. He ran from the kitchen to see Kent glaring down at his phone and Bitty knew immediately that he noticed Jack and he were talking. 

 

"What the fuck is going on?" 

 

Bitty started. "Kent--" 

 

"You're talking to Jack? What, are you trying to steal him? Fine. You can have him. He's damaged fucking goods anyways." He stormed out like a toddler but Bitty followed right on his heels. 

 

"Kent. I was talking to him about you. Your and his relationship." He stopped, and slowly turned around. 

 

"Wh...What did he say? About me--us?" 

 

Bitty sighed. "Come back in and let me feed you some pie." 

 

Kent followed, but not without adding, "I'm only going to have a little piece. You're making me too fucking fat." 

 

Eric got him a "little piece" and made sure he was comfortable and cuddled up in an avalanche of blankets before sitting down and looking at him sadly. 

 

Kent knew it was gonna be bad, whatever Bitty said. So he said it for him. 

 

"There's no salvaging it, is there." 

 

"Well--" Bitty started. It was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry, Kenny." 

 

His eyes were raw. Whenever Jack came up his eyes always swelled. Holding back tears was nearly impossible. 

 

"Can you--" Kent hesitated. "Can you just, I don't know, hug me?" 

 

"Of course, honey." 

 

 

(Eric Bittle and Kent Parson, two men in love with a sad-eyed boy, comforted each other until the sun came up.) 

 

 


	8. A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bitty got a place for his bakery. Everything's perfect for just a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I am a closet fan of BittyHoltz. Don't worry, no real threat!!! But there's a lil sumtin sumtin if you squint. True Love of Eric Bittle will always be Jack Zimmermann in this fic, I assure you. But. Come on. The height difference with Bitty and Holster. And the SINGALONGS THEY WOULD HAVE. Goodness. I'm going to go and write another fic if I continue like this.

Bitty actually jumped in joy. He was on the phone with his realtor, and was just told that his offer for yet another quaint empty shop came through. 

 

"Thank you _so_ much, George. I'll talk to you later. Ok. Bye." 

 

When he hung up, he finally whooped out loud and skipped around the house. 

 

After his victory jig, he tried to calm his shaking and text the group chat. 

 

**Bittle, 3:42 pm:**

_ "y'all i got the property im gonna have a bakery i am sCreAmiNg" _

 

** Lardo: **

_ "BITSSS!!!!" _

 

** Shitty: **

_ "MY BOY." _

 

** Holster: **

_ "I'll work for free until you become a multi-million dollar company."  _

 

** Ransom, 3:43 pm: **

_ "Does that mean you'll finally be on Chopped?"  _

 

** Jack, 3:45 pm: **

_ "Nice job, Bittle." _

 

** Lardo, 3:47 pm: **

_ "We should celebrate.  _

_ Papa Ginos,  9 o'clock on the dot." _

 

** Shitty: **

_ "Lards, we were banned."  _

 

**Lardo, 2:32 am:**

_"I know."_

 

~~~

 

Upon arrival, Lardo handed everyone props from her other art friends (she didn't trust the boys not to harm her own stash). Bitty had a long, curly, red wig and Lardo put on dark lipstick and over-dramatic eyeliner. 

 

Jack was forced to change into a short blond wig and a bow tie. It started to have a bit of a Rocky Horror vibe, but after Bitty and Jack, the parallels stopped. 

 

Shitty came with Lards, so his costume was already set: crop top, short shorts, knee-high socks, and clown makeup. Ransom actually jumped when he saw him. 

 

"The actual _fuck_ , Shits? You look like a clown stripper demon!" 

 

"Bro," Shitty retorted. "It's for aesthetic purposes!" 

 

After some haggling, Ransom and Holster were costumed to look like Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum. It was horrifying. Jack snorted when they walked out of the bathroom of the building next door. 

 

Lardo herself looked like a glittering blue alien. The whole ensemble was slightly horrifying, startlingly random, and more than hilarious. 

 

Lardo looked at each of them as they huddled. "Here's the plan. Go in. Order the heavenly pizza and garlic bread. And, finally, see how long we can stay in the building without being made." 

 

Everyone nodded and dispersed. 

 

~~~

 

It ended with three and a half pizzas, one last piece of garlic bread, a broken table, a garbage can knocked over, many curse words, one cop car, and the team in a dumpster. 

 

"That was a success," Lardo said at the top of the human trash pile. "Let's change and head to The Clubhouse." 

 

Everyone groaned. After almost being arrested, Bitty wanted to call it a night. But Jack tugged on his shirt sleeve and gestured towards the cars, so he reluctantly followed. 

 

The Clubhouse was a cheap nightclub with loud music and gyrating bodies. The air was always charged with energy and lust. 

 

Shitty and Lardo went there together at least once a month (and there alone at least three times more). 

 

"You sure you're up for this crowd, man?" Holster asked Jack, nonchalantly ripping off his oompa-loompa-like costume and wig. 

 

Jack grinned, gently taking his props off and (trying to) fold them to eventually give back to Lardo. "I'll be able to handle myself. I'm really just worried about you though, pal." 

 

Holster just playfully shoved his shoulder with a roll of his eyes and lapped faithfully up to Ransom like the inner golden retriever he was. 

 

Shitty and Lardo, meanwhile, were conspiring with Bitty a ways behind Jack. "You want us to be your wingmen, Bits?" 

 

Bitty snorted. "Um. No. Never." 

 

"You're just afraid they'd end up falling in love with me instead, nerd." 

 

"Hmm. You know? That's exactly it, Shits. Especially with the clown ensemble you refuse to take off." 

 

Lardo took over. "When was the last time you got some, Bits?" 

 

He blushed profusely and refused to answer (especially because Jack turned back and raised an eyebrow before running a little farther forward). 

 

Lardo smirked. "Point proven." 

 

With much shoving and pushing people out of the way, the group finally found a booth they could all sit around. Unfortunately, it was at the back corner and smelled like sex. 

 

"Nice one, Shitty." 

 

"At least all of you will be tempted to go up and dance instead of sulk!" 

 

All anyone could do to hear each other was yell, which made communication nearly futile. Bitty bought a beer, took a few sips, and took off to the dance floor with Shitty, Lardo, and Holster. 

 

Harvard Hottie and Art Freak were basically having sex on the dance floor, and Bitty and Holster made fun of them for the first few minutes. 

 

People continued pushing around on the dance floor and soon Bitty was shoved towards the taller blond's chest. 

 

They hooked up in the past, so it wasn't too awkward when they started grinding against each other. Bitty's back was flush against Holster's chest, and he wrapped his arm upwards into the other boy's hair. It was just friends having fun, but someone seemed to have been offended because they were thrown apart. 

 

"Bitty!" It was Kent. 

 

He looked up at yet _another_ blond and glared. "Kent, what are you doing here?" He yelled, since no other volume was possible. 

 

"I've been looking all over and I spotted your car finally!" He looked genuinely worried, which freaked out Bitty. "It's your apartment, man! Your door was open! All your shit--" 

 

"Shit!" Bitty broke through the crowd at full speed, and once he was outside in the frigid air, his senses cleared up. He took the keys out of his pocket and unlocked his door with shaky hands. All of the sudden, his passenger side door opened. 

 

"Jack?" 

 

He buckled up and looked expectantly at Bitty. "Let's go. I wanna help." His cheeks were flushed and he seemed a little angry or frustrated. Bitty decided not to dwell and instead put his tiny car in reverse and looked out the mirror. 

 

And nearly screamed his head off. 

 

"It's just me, it's just me, Bits!" 

 

Kent opened the back door and climbed in without any prompting. 

 

"Go!" 

 

He went. 

 

Bitty's heart was racing. So many things were happening at once. Oh, no. His apartment. What about his secret money stash under the floorboards? All of his hard-earned cooking supplies? Precious gifts and memories from friends? 

 

Then these two pricks started to talk to each other. 

 

"Jack." 

 

"Kent." 

 

"How've you been." 

 

"Fine." 

 

"Me too." 

 

Jack turned to Bitty. "Are you two friends?" 

 

"Yeah. Got a problem with that, Zimms?" 

 

"Yeah, I do, _Parse_." 

 

"That's great! I don't give a--" 

 

"BOYS!" Bitty snapped. "MY APARTMENT WAS JUST ROBBED AND I PROBABLY LOST EVERYTHING! CAN WE TALK ABOUT Y'ALL'S ISSUES ANOTHER TIME?" He was near hysterical but kept his voice strong and firm, like his coach during a particularly rowdy practice. 

 

The rest of the ride was silent as a cemetery. 

 

Once parked, Bitty bolted out of the car and rushed in the lobby and up the stairs. Jack and Kent were right behind him, foregoing their own issues to help their mutual friend. 

 

Bitty's door was indeed ajar, and all of his things were strewn across the apartment. His computer and television were gone, along with most of his clothes. 

 

His couch was ripped open beyond repair and many of his cooking supplies were broken as well. 

 

He ran to his bedroom and dug into that particular floorboard and cried out in relief because his money was still there. He could still have his bakery. 

 

In the time that Bitty searched through the damage of the apartment, Kent called the cops and, afterwards, tried to talk to Jack. 

 

The raven-haired professional trainer wasn't having it and instead walked next to Bitty, offering any help that was needed. 

 

Half an hour later, the rest of the group was standing outside discussing amongst each other on how they could help their friend. Bitty and Kent gave their statements and then waited outside as the police examined the apartment for any possible leads. Everyone surrounded the short baker in a tight bear hug, muttering their apologies and "hunger for vengeance". 

 

"Thank you, guys. It's been a pretty exciting night, but I'm beat. Y'all should go home and get some sleep." 

 

At first, everyone objected and almost forced Bitty to let them sleep over, but they really were worn out. Soon, the party exited the building. 

 

Minus Kent and Jack. They both sat on either side of Bits, against the wall outside of his apartment. It was quiet for a while, but once the cops expressed their apologies and instructions to get compensated, they left Bitty alone with the two Adonis-looking dudes. 

 

He got up and cleared his throat, not looking at either and walking into his (completely wrecked) apartment. "C'mon, boys." 

 

They followed after obediently, sitting on opposite ends of the couch and waiting as Bitty made hot chocolate. 

 

Bitty was pretty sure this would become the worst night of his life, if it wasn't already. 

 

He handed them steaming mugs, then pulled a chair in front of them and sat in it dejectedly. He hadn't slouched like that since his senior year of high school. 

 

"Y'all are smart. You figured out I've been friends with both of y'all. Yell at me if you want. I'm sorry." 

 

Kent snorted. "It's like Jack's been cheated on all over again." 

 

"Kent!" Bitty stood up straight and was about to kick him out when Jack let out half a chuckle. 

 

"Both of you say your peace and then get out," Bitty finally said. "I have a lot of cleaning to do and don't need you goons sitting here laughing at me." 

 

Kent sobered at Bitty's remark, as did Jack. "I mean, I already knew, so it's not a big deal for me. You're just a good friend, Bits." Kent smiled at Bitty and then glanced at Jack. "How 'bout you, Jackie?" 

 

He glared at Kent, then looked at Bitty. "Can we talk..." and with a pointed look at the blond at the other side of the couch, "...alone?" 

 

Kent didn't need to be told twice. He shot up and stared down at Jack for a moment, as if he was going to say something, but instead turned and playfully shoved Bitty's shoulder. "See ya later, Bits." 

 

Once the door shut with finality, the awkward was suffocating. 

 

"So you've been friends with Kent." 

 

Bitty tried to chuckle. "I don't think he gave me a choice." 

 

Jack scratched his head and then fiddled with his thumbs. "What...what did you guys talk about?" 

 

"You. Your guys's relationship. Pies." 

 

"Pies?" 

 

A side of Bitty's mouth quirked up. "He's obsessed with my pies." 

 

"I've never actually tried your pies," Jack replied with a little smile of his own. 

 

"You're missin' out, Mr. Zimmermann." 

 

Another beat of silence. "So you didn't bash on me?" He said, still with that smile but sounding self-deprecating. 

 

"Oh Jack, no!" Bitty instantly sat next to him and shook his head vigorously. "I mostly bashed on Kenny, to be honest." 

 

They both smiled. 

 

"So, nothing...happened...between you two?" Jack looked down at his hands, embarrassed at the question. 

 

Bitty raised an eyebrow. "You mean...romantically?" 

 

Jack didn't say anything, but slowly and minutely nodded. 

 

Bitty smiled, looking at Jack's hands just like the other boy. "No," he whispered. 

 

Jack stood up right away, and Bitty's smile dropped. 

 

"I, um, I better get going. I have work in the morning." Jack was pacing around, heading towards the door. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." 

 

He nearly ran out the door and Bitty was left sitting in confusion. He didn't know how, but he felt like he screwed up nonetheless. 

 

 

(As Jack ran down the stairs, he went through everything that happened that night. He tried to push away all the feelings that seemed to have surfaced all of the sudden. He didn't want to think about Bitty dancing with Holster, then being pulled away by Kent. He didn't want to think about seeing Kent and feeling as if his heart wasn't an open wound anymore. He didn't want to think about how Bitty looked at him. All those times.) 

 

(He especially didn't want to think about how he looked back.) 


	9. Mr. Ximmermann

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil interlude with some Bitty and Jack fluff. You're welcome.  
> Kudos are appreciated!!!  
> I love you all and hope you enjoy

** Jack:  **

_Hey, Bittle. Sorry I was weird at your apartment. _

 

** Jack:  **

_ I had a lot on my mind. _

 

** Bittle:  **

_ Don't worry about it! I kinda feel like a jerk right now...  _

 

** Jack:  **

_ Don't feel bad. You're just too friendly for your own good. _

 

** Bittle:  **

_ :)))))))) _

 

** Jack:  **

_ What? _

 

** Bittle:  **

_ :))))))))))))))))))))) _

 

** Jack:  **

_ I just asked Shitty to explain. _

 

** Jack:  **

_ :-) _

 

** Bittle:  **

_ omg stop _

 

** J ack:  **

_ :-) :-) :-) _

 

** Bittle:  **

_ STOP THAT MR XIMMERMANN _

 

** Bittle:  **

_ *ZIMMERMANN _

 

** Jack:  **

_ I have to go to work soon. Talk to you later. _

 

**Bittle:**

_ Have fun!! _

 

**Jack:**

_ :-) _

 

** Bittle:  **

_ >:( _

 

(Bitty smiled down at his phone like an idiot.) 


	10. Daddy Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's birthday bash preparation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on Jack's birthday I'm sorry I'm trash.  
> Also. Sorry. No frogs in this chapter. But SOON!!  
> This is the last one im gonna post for today so all of you can be like "thank goodness this bitch will get off my automatic zimbits feed"

Bitty couldn't quit his two jobs, but he just needed a little extra time to work on his plans for the bakery. He had to apply for loans so he could redo the whole place (which was a little out of the way in Boston, but it was Bitty's and that's what counted). He had to buy supplies. He had to do _so much_. 

 

He wanted to quit so badly, especially after one snappy customer who threatened to get him fired for being a "southern fag who can't do basic math."

 

He almost reached over the counter and ripped her five-hundred dollar hair extensions out. Instead, he tried not to glare too much and said, "I'll have my manager personally handle your transaction, ma'am."

 

He told the group about this and they promised a most painful death for the lady, which obviously made Bitty feel a little better. 

Jack especially was pretty enthusiastic, considering he hardly said anything in the group chat.

 

**Jack, 6:25 pm: **

_ What a jerk. _

 

It was like he just pulled his pants off in public. Everyone was surprised and ecstatic. 

 

Then Jack said _another thing_. In succession with the first thing he said. 

 

This was unheard of. 

 

** Jack, 6:26 pm:  **

_ Sorry for the topic change, but my birthday is coming up this weekend and I was wondering if any of you wanted to hang out at my apartment. My parents are going to be there. You have been warned. _

 

** Bittle:  **

_ ITS YOUR BITTHDAY????!!!! NAME ALL THE PIES U LIKE ILL MAKE EM ALL HAPPY BIRHDAYTYTTTYY  _

 

Everyone else had basically the same reaction. 

 

** Holster:  **

_ Wait. your mom, the  _ model _ , will be there? Would it be too weird to ask her how she keeps her skin so clear? _

 

** Ransom:  **

_ Bro, ur face is perfect _

 

**Holster: **

_ Then my concealer is doinf its job _

 

** Holster:  **

_ *doing _

 

** Shitty:  **

_ BROO ITS UR BIRTHDAY HOW OLD ARE YA GONNA BE WAIT LET ME GUESS 80 BC U DRESS LIKE IT _

 

** Lardo:  **

_ Ooh, burn. _

 

** Shitty:  **

_ As my girlfriend i thought you'd support me. _

 

** Lardo:  **

_ . _

 

** Shitty:  **

_ Fair 'nuff. _

 

**Jack: **

_Shitty, I'm going to be 26. _

 

** Shitty:  **

_ IM OLDER THAN YOU BY TWO AND A HALF MONTHS THE FUCK ZIMMS _

 

** Bitty:  **

_ Gentlefolk, contain yourselves. Jack, what are we not allowed to do/bring _

 

** Jack:  **

_ Shitty's tub juice _

 

** Shitty:  **

_ NOOOO _

 

** Holster:  **

_ NOOOO _

 

** Ransom:  **

_ NOOOO _

 

** Lardo:  **

_ Eh. _

 

** Jack:  **

_ And you can't ask for my baby pictures or say weird or inappropriate things to my parents. Wear casual stuff, but make it look nice. That means no BBQ sauce, Lardo. _

 

** Lardo:  **

_ Bro. I thought you had my back. _

 

** Lardo:  **

_ I'll let it go just this once. _

 

**Bitty: **

_ Y'all, im so excited!!! We're gonna have us a party!!! WITH NO TUB JUICE!!! :D _

 

** Shitty:  **

_ I'm wounded, Bits. And you just had to kick me when I was down. _

 

** Jack:  **

_ Hopefully I'll see some of you there. It will be  at five o'clock. You all know where my apartment is, right? _

 

They discussed addresses and rides and Bitty privately prodded Jack about his absolute favorite meals. By the time Bitty was in bed, the group chat died down, but he was in a heated discussion about food with Jack over the phone. 

 

"Chicken fingers? You get that _every_ time you go to a restaurant?"

 

Jack replied, his voice almost defensive, "Well, yeah. It tastes good and has protein. You should eat more protein, speaking of. You're too tiny."

 

Bitty snorted. "Most people find my size endearing and also I will never touch those fried socks you call chicken. Let me make you some real chicken for your birthday!"

 

"Bittle," Jack sighed, "first of all, I was kidding about the protein thing. You're cu-- anyways, I already told you, my mom is completely _fine_ with--"

 

"She is coming all the way down from Canada and will probably be bone tired by the time she arrives at your apartment," Bitty reasoned, pointedly not addressing the first thing. "Let me help, Jack." He made his voice purposely whiny, like a petulant child.

 

Jack chuckled. "She won't like it when I tell her, so I can only promise that I'll _try_ to convince her." 

"I bet you're a mama's boy. You could probably convince her to do anything with those eyes of yours."

 

Bitty almost dropped his phone. He smashed his head into his pillow a few times. He didn't _really_  say that, did he?

 

Jack just laughed again. "What about my eyes?"

 

"You're not gonna actually make me say it." Crickets. "Are you?" Bitty was beet red in the face. He wanted to sink through the mattress and hide forever.

 

"Bittle. I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

He buried his head in the pillow for one more time and took a shaky breath for good measure before turning back to his phone and breathing in deep enough that his lungs ached. "You know. Your eyes have that adora--nice tilt to them. You look like a sad puppy. And besides," Bitty tried to lighten up his tone to get the attention off of what he just admitted. "Every mama would bend backwards for her son."

 

The line was silent for a moment, and Jack almost said something, but it seemed he decided against it. "What's your mom like, anyway?" He asked instead.

 

Bitty cleared his throat. "Well. She's a good woman who puts family first, _always._ She has a funny sense of humor, and I look a lot like her--at least, that's what people say."

 

Jack 'hmm'd. "Did the guys and Lards ever meet her? And your dad? Will I be able to?" Bitty thought he imagined it, but was Jack a little _excited_  at the thought? This boy.

 

"Um, well," Bitty said. "Well. Two years into college I told them I was gay."

 

The line was silent. 

 

"And?" Jack's voice was interested but also impossibly worried.

 

"Well." It had been four years. He didn't know why his eyes still burned. It was so long ago. Technically, things worked out, anyways. "After that, my parents didn't talk to me for about a year. When they did, it was to wish me a happy birthday or merry Christmas. I drive down from time to time, but it's not the same. I know they try to forget what I told them. So when I'm around them it's weird. It's..."

 

"Horrible."

 

Bitty whispered, "Yeah." He was afraid if he talked any louder his voice would crack. 

 

"I'm guessing the group wouldn't be the best people to introduce. I'm sure they aren't too fond of them."

 

Bitty shrugged, but then remembered this was a phone conversation.

 

"That's true."

 

It was quiet on the line again. 

 

"Bittle."

 

Bitty's stomach dropped. He didn't want to answer. He knew this was going to get even more serious. Maybe he could hang up and pretend he lost cell connection...

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I don't...I don't love Kent anymore. I realized when we were in your apartment a few days ago."

 

Bitty swallowed hard. "That's good for you, Jack. Moving on is freeing."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Yeah."

 

"Jack?"

 

"Hm?"

 

"I..." He stopped. No. This was not the time. Besides, Bitty wasn't a rebound. No, no, no. But he almost snapped when he heard Jack's hopeful, "What is it, Bits?" (That nickname again...)

 

"Um. I just wanted to wish you a happy early birthday and I'm glad you don't completely hate me." 

 

"I could never hate you."

 

Bitty really could melt through the mattress.

 

"Me neither."

 

"Goodnight, Bitty."

 

"Goodnight, Jack."

 

 

(Both boys hung up and then proceeded to bury their heads into their pillows, concealing large smiles. Each fell asleep with a hint of a grin still on his lips.) 


	11. Dream a Little Dream of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You miss 100% of the shots you don't take. - Wayne Gretzky" - Michael Scott

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Weed.

        Jack's party began in disaster, and it was completely Bitty's fault.

 

At least, that's what _Jack_  would say. Bitty blamed Shitty and his damn pot brownies.

 

B. Shitty Knight came over the night before for a sleepover.

 

"Bro. We need some one-on-one. I miss you. And Harvard is, like, crazy boring." 

 

Bitty had a lot to do (to _bake_ , is what he really meant) for Jack's birthday. He really wanted to make it special for him, and didn't want to disappoint any of the party-goers (especially a certain someone's parents). 

 

But, since Shitty was Shitty, he came over anyways. "I'll help, Bits!"

 

He glared as the man with the mustache marched into his living room. "You will sit at that couch and not lift a finger to help or so help me I will throw you out of a window."

 

Shitty's eyes grew wide. "Bro, no offense, but I just got a boner."

 

"Shitty," Bitty retorted, "no offense, but you get a boner if the wind blows at you the wrong way."

 

Shitty grinned. "Don't you mean the _right_  way?"

 

Bitty didn't even look at him, just heaved a sigh and marched to the kitchen. 

 

"Hey, Bits. I brought over some of my own baked goods. You seemed a little stressed."

 

Bittle was currently beating about four eggs as he stared worriedly at his pile of butter. There were about twenty-five sticks stacked atop each other and he _knew_  that if Jack found out how much butter was used he would not go near any of his pies. Eric Bittle, for all he tried to hide it, was indeed stressed. 

 

"Shitty. They better not be pot brownies."

 

He got up and leaned on the counter, almost leaning for a stick of butter to fiddle with (only Shitty would fiddle with a stick of butter). His hand quickly recoiled, however, at the withering look Bitty's gaze sent its way. 

 

"They may or may not be pot brownies," He admitted, watching Bitty's tiny hands zoom all over the place.

 

"SHITTY." 

 

He put his hands up in mock-surrender. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not five seconds away from an anxiety attack. 

 

Bitty stopped for a quarter-second and stared into Shitty's eyes.

 

"I will _not_ have an anxiety attack in five seconds." Shitty almost believed him.

 

Until he saw Bitty's hands.

 

"You're shaking like a fuckin' leaf during a hurricane!" He gestured towards Bits as if the shorter boy didn't know. Bitty just shrugged and continued beating batter. 

 

"Bits. Just one brownie. Then your hands won't move around like you're having a seizure."

 

Bitty gave him a level look. "What if I like having them shaky. Makes it easier to stir." 

 

Shitty grinned, knowing he was about to triumph. "Frosting, Bits. Those intricate details that won you three gold medals at your state fair."

 

"I won those for my pies, you dingus." But Bitty looked partially swayed.

 

"C'mon, Dicky," Shitty said the nickname jokingly. Bitty tried to mask the conflicting thoughts his mind ran through at the nickname only his mom used to call him. Shitty saw and immediately backtracked. "Sorry, man. But just have one. One! You can't get completely stoned from just one! Come on, pie guy. You need this." He came around the corner and slung his arm around Bitty's shoulders.

 

Finally, after a minute of Bitty glaring, he relented. "Just one. Just so I can make Jack's cake look nice." 

 

"Atta boy!" 

 

Three hours later and everything (and everyone) was baked. 

 

Shitty slept in Bitty's bed and spooned the stoned baker, and for once Bitty didn't mind. (This may have been because he had not one, not two, but three magic brownies.)

 

~~~

 

The next day, Bitty was just as normal as before Shitty came over, and he began packing everything up. 

 

The party was at one o'clock, which gave him plenty of time to organize his food and wrap the birthday boy's present. He hoped to anyone listening that Jack would like his present. 

 

Shitty, of course, got up at twelve and only because Bitty shook him awake. "We gotta go! Use whatever you need to wipe the weed smell off of you. Go go go!!" Bitty was anxious all over again and wished he could snatch another brownie. 

 

But one thing he swore to himself he would never do (after a very confusing night in college) was to attend a party high off his rocker. 

 

The drive to Jack's place was particularly complicated, since Shitty had the aux cord and was convinced that his music _had_  to be heard at top volume, so Bitty could barely hear the directions given from his phone. 

 

That's why he was panting and glaring at Shitty when Jack opened the door to his apartment. 

 

"Sorry we're late, Jack," Bitty apologized as he set all the food on his (very nice, oh goodness how much did this apartment _cost_?) granite countertops. "The directions were a little funky and Shitty almost dropped a pie as we were walking down the hallway so I had to do some of my old gymnastics moves to save it." He took a deep breath and tried not to smile back as Jack grinned at him. 

 

"Glad you could make it, Bittle." They stared at each other a little longer, before someone cleared his throat and they both snapped out of it, taking a surprised step back as if they were electrocuted. "Uh, Mom, Dad, this is Eric Bittle."

 

Mrs. Zimmermann approached Bitty and, surprisingly, enveloped him in a hug. "I've heard so much about you! Congratulations on your bakery. I cannot _wait_  to try your pie today."

 

Bitty blushed. "Well, uh, thank you ma'am. It means a lot."

 

As she backed away and gave him a dazzling smile, Mr. Zimmermann walked forward and offered his hand, which Bitty took apprehensively. He did not want to lose his hand. 

 

"Good to meet you, son. I appreciate all you do for Jack here."

 

Bitty smiled bashfully, and tried not to blush in front of this _giant_  of a human (who looked so much like his son, goodness). "It's my pleasure, Jack's really a great person to be around."

 

Jack, standing a few feet away, ducked his head (because he didn't want anyone to see his rosy cheeks (especially Bittle)) and decided to walk over to Lardo and Ransom. Holster was late because he got caught up with something at work but he'd be there at the end of the day. 

 

Shitty introduced himself to the Zimmermanns quite easily, as if they'd been friends for years. Alicia and Bob nodded because they knew _exactly_  who this kid was. 

 

"So, Harvard? Great school," Alicia said.

 

"The education's great there," Shitty started, "but the people--"

 

There was a knock at the door. 

 

Jack hmph'd. "Isn't Holster supposed to come around five?" He looked down at his watch and shrugged, walking towards the door.

 

And there Kent Parson stood. Or, rather, wobbled.

 

"Zimms! Happy birthday!" He shot forward and wrapped his arms around Jack like no big deal. Everyone could see the way Jack's back stiffened and how he kept his arms at his sides. 

 

"Hi, Kent. Thanks."

 

He patted Jack on the back a little harshly, then backed away and finally recognized everyone else standing there. "Oh, shit." He smiled dopily and raised his hand to wave at everyone. "Hey, everyone. Is this the party I wasn't invited to?" He looked over at Bitty and grinned as if he knew something the latter didn't. "Thin walls, bro."

 

Then he coughed. Jack recoiled and scrunched up his nose. "You smell like weed." 

 

Bitty's face turned white. He turned to Shitty, who looked the same. They locked eyes and had a silent conversation. 

 

"Shit."

 

"Shit is right, brother. We should jump out the window."

 

"I'd say you're crazy but I may just be considering it right now."

 

Kent walked over to Bitty and gave _him_  a hug. "Hey, Bits, your door was unlocked and you had these brownies on your counter. I wanted pie because I was drunk and sad and whenever I think about Jackie over there--" he pointed blindly behind him, "--your pie is just--always there." He paused and rubbed at his eyes. "But you had brownies so I had about five of those. I got drunk because it was Jack's birthday and last year I got him a huge teddy bear he probably burned right now and-- Bob! Alicia!"

 

He turned and enveloped them both into a hug. They looked uncomfortable, to say the least. Alicia looked like she was about to take off one of her heels and bludgeon Kent with it. But her face showed conflicting emotions (the Zimmermanns _had_  known Kent since Jack was a teenager, and even though Kent broke Jack's heart, Alicia couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy). 

 

"It's sooooo nice to see you again. I've missed you guys." Kent smiled into Bob's shoulder, then let go and took a step back, looking down at his shoes in despair. "And Jack." 

 

"Kent--" Bitty started. 

 

Kent put his hand up as if to silence Bitty and said, "Yeah. I gotta get the hell out." 

 

And so he gave one last hug to Bitty, and one last hug to Jack (everyone gave them privacy when Jack relented and wrapped his arms around Kent, rubbing his back). 

 

And he just. 

 

Walked out. 

 

Everyone looked at Bitty then and he wanted to _die_. The room was basically suffocating him at that moment. "I'm going to make sure he takes an Uber." 

 

So he bolted out the door and found Kent crying in the stairwell. "Come on, Kenny," Bitty muttered as he lifted the taller blond by the shoulders. "Let's get you home and in bed." 

 

He called an Uber and waited downstairs as Kent wallowed and, at random points, giggled his head off. Once the car came to pick him up, Bitty told him he would be home in a few hours and make him some soup. 

 

"That'd be nice."

 

Bitty smiled and was about to turn away, but Kent caught his sleeve. "Tell Jack, and everyone--" he made a hand motion to emphasize, "that I'm sorry for crashing." He paused and buried his head in his hands. "G-d. I made a fucking idiot out of myself."

 

Bitty smiled apologetically. "Go home and get some rest. And no more brownies."

 

Kent smiled weakly back and closed the door. 

 

Bitty wanted to stay outside in the biting cold, for once. Going back up to the apartment was bound to be awkward as hell. 

 

Aaaannnnnddd it was. 

 

Bitty knocked again and Jack answered the door with an eyebrow raised. "Did you drug my ex-boyfriend?" 

 

Bitty stood outside, unsure if he was still welcome, but Jack wordlessly gestured him inside. Bitty still seemed unsure. "Should I just go home and--"

 

"No! Are you crazy?" Jack tried to mask his excitable reaction, smoothing down his shirt and scratching his hair. "Just, get in here already. I'm trying to have a party."

 

Everyone was sitting in the living-room chatting, pointedly ignoring Jack and Bitty. (Seriously. The whole thing was _very_  awkward.)

 

Finally, after Jack grabbed both ends of his scarf and almost strangled him, Bitty stumbled in giggling. "Okay, okay!" 

 

Jack let go and playfully glared at him. "You ruined my birthday before it even began."

 

"I'm sorry! In my defense--" Bitty's eyes flitted over to the group now playing Cards Against Humanity. Was Alicia winning? Anyways-- "In my defense, Shitty was the one who brought over the pot brownies and Kent was the one who broke into my apartment." 

 

Jack just huffed in disbelief. Then it was his turn to glance at the group before muttering, "When do you think Kent will move on?" His eyebrows were furrowed in worry. 

 

Bitty shrugged and gave him a small, pitiful smile (the pity was for Kent, if it wasn't already obvious). "It's different for everybody. But I think you not totally giving him the cold shoulder today helped."

 

Jack nodded thoughtfully, and they started walking towards the group, who was laughing obscenely. A minute later, he leaned towards Bitty and muttered, "I do not give people the cold shoulder."

 

"Honey. You're from Canada. The only thing you _can_  give is a cold shoulder. If people wanted to cry on those things, their tears would crystallize instantly." 

 

"Don't talk about my shoulders as "one of those things"," Jack playfully argued. 

 

Bitty just shrugged and muttered a thank you to Lardo, who wordlessly handed them cards. "Those muscles aren't from this planet. You're like a whole different species."

 

Shits cut in. "Yeah, Zimms. You're a rare specimen." 

 

Jack narrowed his eyes at Shitty. "I'm still mad at you for unintentionally drugging Kent." 

 

Shitty looked worried for half-a-second and then pointed angrily at Jack. "Why is it so fucking hard to tell when you're joking?"

 

"Language," Bob Zimmermann barked out, and everyone fell into silence. Then he and Jack started laughing and Shitty rolled his eyes. 

 

"Figures. He got his looks _and_  bad joke-telling skills from his dad."

 

Alicia sat forward and leveled her gaze with Shitty's. 

 

"And what did he get from me?"

 

Shitty fumbled with his words for the first time ever. "Um.. um well-y-you know, the gift of life, his, uh, down-to-earth personality. Um. Eyes. Internal organs and the like--" He went on, somehow, for another two minutes. 

 

Alicia kept her gaze level and her face straight, but everyone else was near tears laughing. Lardo said to Mrs. Zimmermann, "Can you adopt me?" Jack leaned against Bitty casually as he giggled and Bitty's stomach dropped like that time he almost dropped a pie before one of the state fair judges had to eat it. Except this time, as hard as it would be to explain, it was a good feeling. 

 

~~~

 

Even though he had a late start, Jack beat everyone else at Cards Against Humanity. Turns out he's really intense about board games and the like. "He gets competitiveness from his father," Alicia said as she slung her arm around her son's broad shoulders. She sent a sly smirk toward Shitty, who sunk lower in his place on the couch. Lardo comfortingly patted his knee. 

 

"Pie time," Ransom stated, sounding dejected. He had lost _badly_  and was feeling very sore about it. "Hey," he countered when Lardo called him out on it. "I'm not even half as bad as Holster. You guys should play Monopoly with him and see how "bad my attitude is" _then_." He even used air quotes. 

 

Shitty tried to grab the cutting knife but Bittle shot forward and carefully yanked it out of the former's grasp. "I don't trust you with sharp objects, no offense."

 

Shitty shrugged. "None taken."

 

Carefully, feeling all eyes on him (but not seeing everyone basically salivating at his cooking creations), Bitty cut all five pies in perfect symmetry. 

 

"Bits," Shitty started. "I have another--"

 

"Honey, shush." 

 

Next, he carefully placed the Maple Sugar Crusted Apple pie in the center of the plate and offered it bashfully to Jack. "To the birthday boy," he said so only the two of them could hear it. 

 

Jack grinned (with those damn dimples of his). "Thanks, Bittle. It means a lot." 

 

Bitty smiled right back and then snapped out of it and served everyone else. 

 

For five minutes, Bitty was worried that Jack's neighbors would think that an orgy was happening in his apartment. Everyone was groaning and moaning and exclaiming, "It's so _good_!" every so often. Bitty just laughed and covered his face when Lardo bumped him with her shoulder.

 

"See? If you had any doubts about your cooking you're sure as hell reassured now."

 

She was staring pointedly at Jack, who had not made any noises (thank goodness or Bitty would have Died), but was making a face of pure enjoyment. His eyes were closed and he chewed slowly. 

 

Bitty had to look away. It was _that_  sensual. Jack didn't even know what he was doing. He was slowly killing Eric Richard Bittle is what he was doing, by the way. 

 

After Jack finished his pie (he was the last because he at like a freaking turtle), he came up to Bitty and smiled, looking blissed out. "That was way better than chicken fingers." 

 

Bitty pretended to tear up. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me about my cooking."

 

Jack huffed. "I doubt it. Bet people offered you their hand in marriage, eh?"

 

Ransom piped up, "Shitty has asked at _least_  twelve times." 

 

"Eric, I like it, so may I put a ring on it?"

 

"Make that thirteen." 

 

Jack grinned at all of Bitty's friends. All of _his_  friends now, too. 

 

He turned back towards Bittle as the rest of the group was immersed in a conversation about how much Trump Sucks. 

 

"You know," he leaned on the counter, incidentally leaning closer to Bitty, "I'm going to have to work out twice as much as usual if I decide to keep you around."

 

Bitty raised an eyebrow. "If you _decide_? Excuse me, I'm stayin' whether you like it or not, mister Zimmermann."

 

They just grinned at each other. Bitty wanted to add that he wouldn't mind watching Jack work out. But he didn't.

 

Because he's not an idiot.

 

That's why Shitty said it for him.

 

"Yo, Jack, when and where do you work out?" Shitty suddenly butted in. "I'd like to see. For. You know. Learning purposes."

 

Lardo came over and pushed his shoulder. "I thought you were dating me."

 

"Babe," Shitty turned and pushed her shoulder back. "Of course we're dating. I said for _learning purposes_." 

 

Lards just smiled and pushed his other shoulder. 

 

Which led to the two of them wrestling on the floor. 

 

Alicia muttered to Bob, "That Mr. Crappy is definitely one of a kind." 

 

Bob just grinned. "Glad Jack found someone to goof around with, at least. Did he tell you about the time they hung out and Shitty made tub juice? And--"

 

Their conversation continued and Alicia listened with intent fascination. Holster came a bit later and got the last piece of pie and the first piece of cake, which made everyone else resent him for the rest of the night while he acted all smug. A movie was watched, Monopoly was played (and its board was flipped over), oaths were sworn never to play games with Jack and Holster in the same room ever again, _real_  chicken was eaten (Bitty was elated at the look of surprised delight in Jack's face as he took his first bite (also, using his stainless steel oven was a dream come true for Bitty)), and laughter was heard throughout the night. 

 

Slowly, everyone trickled out, leaving only Bitty and the Zimmermanns (new band name I call it). He only had to stay a little later to pack up all his dishes and clean the kitchen.

 

"For the thousandth time, Bittle, _don't clean the damn kitchen_."

 

Jack's voice was firm, but Bitty moved around as if it was his own kitchen and Jack wasn't even there.

 

"You're a stubborn southerner," Alicia said, accompanied by a light laugh at her own joke. She had two glasses of wine so she was happily buzzed, but not yet tipsy. 

 

Bob wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hauled her to the guest room. "I think it's time for bed," he said, tickling her sides. The giggles dispersed once the door was closed and the only thing to be heard was the squeak of the washcloth against the counter.

 

"Let me at least help," Jack asked, almost pleadingly. 

 

"Oh, hush you. I'm almost done anyways. And _you're_  the birthday boy. Just sit down and relax. Open your gifts." Bitty hummed as he washed a few dishes. 

 

Jack sat at the counter and watched Bittle move around the kitchen with his head resting in his hands. He could fall asleep watching Bitty dance and sing around his kitchen, and, for the first time since college, he ached for his camera. To capture this moment and enjoy it forever. To live in it until the day he dies. 

 

At that thought, he sat up straight, sucking him out of his stupor. 

 

He walked over to his presents and only grabbed Bitty's, shaking it with an eyebrow raised while Bitty pretended not to notice.

 

The card read, 

 

" _Dear Mr. Zimmermann,_

_It has come to my attention that you are turning a year older. Happy birthday._

_That was my impression of a gentleman starting off  a l ~~ettr~~ letter. It was good, right? Read it again in a British accent and you'll see what I mean._

 

_See?_

_Anyways, it's your birthday!!! I'm kind of mad that you only told us two days before, but now it's permanently in my phone's calendar. You will never escape my pies!!!!_

_You are such a great person. I'm glad we're friends and hope there's more birthdays to come._

 

_~~Lo~~   From,_

_Eric Bittle_

 

Jack smiled down at the card fondly, and then finally unwrapped his gift. It was a pillow with a stitched picture of a moose, but on its face was the ":-)" face. An arrow pointed at it and said, "Jack Zimmermann." There were also weights at the moose's feet. 

 

Jack laughed so hard Bitty jumped and almost dropped his favorite ceramic pie dish. Jack got up and immediately hugged Bitty so hard his lungs almost collapsed. Bitty started laughing too. "Thank you, weirdo," Jack muttered into Bitty's shoulder. (This was only possible because Bitty's feet were  _no longer touching the ground_. Jack literally picked him up and swung him around.)

 

Bitty's arms tightened around him and he replied, "I'm glad you like it. I was worried it was  _too_ weird and random."

 

Jack put him down and stared at him with a grin. "Oh, it's definitely too weird and random." Bitty looked worried for a moment. "And I love it."

 

Jack's arms were still loosely around Bittle. Their eyes locked for a few more seconds before Jack pushed himself away. 

 

"Um, Bittle, I'll help you load your stuff into your car."

 

Bitty covered up his confusion and tried to act normal. "Aw, honey, you don't have to do--"

 

Jack cut him off (and forced himself not to blush at the pet name). "You haven't let me clean my own kitchen for the last hour. This is the least I can do." 

 

Bitty turned around for a second and raised an eyebrow, before facing back to his dishes and covering them with saran wrap and placing them in Jack's fridge. As he was doing that, he said, "Oh, all right. I guess those muscles of yours could come in handy just this once." 

 

In the elevator, they reminisced about the  _last time_ they were in an elevator together. They laughed, but grew somber because they remembered what happened next. Jack looked like he wanted to apologize all over again, but the doors opened and Bitty just grinned embarrassingly, as if to say "Don't worry about it.  _I_ was the idiot."

 

Once everything was loaded, there really wasn't anything else to say or do. 

 

"Thank you for your help, Jack," Bitty smiled up at him gratefully.

 

One side of Jack's mouth quirked. "Thank you for one of the most interesting birthdays I've had, Bittle."

 

Bitty's face turned red and he looked so apologetic that Jack's heart broke a little. "I really am so sorry about that--"

 

"Bits," Jack interjected. "It's okay. Seriously. Today was sw'awesome." (Ransom and Holster had a powerpoint presentation on important group slang and Jack really liked it.) 

 

He gave Bittle a reassuring smile. 

 

Bitty nodded with a small smile of his own, but Jack could tell that some of the guilt was still at the edge of his mind. 

 

Without thinking, Jack said, "Do you wanna go to Del's sometime?"

 

Bitty looked up at Jack, his brows furrowed in confusion. A) was he asking him on a date (???!!!!!!!!!) and B) what the hell is a Del's?

 

"What the hell is a Del's?" 

 

Jack snorted. "You've never been to Del's at your six years of being in New England?"

 

Bitty shook his head, still confused about what was going on.

 

Jack stood back with a hand over his heart in mock offense. "It's only the best place to get lemonade slushies."

 

"What?"

 

Jack shrugged. "That's the best way to describe it."

 

"Um." Bitty still had no idea what was going on, but he knew he was looking like a complete idiot (what he didn't know was that Jack thought it was _adorable_ ). "Sure!" He put on a smile, even though his stomach just felt like it was dropped from the Grand Canyon. "Just text me the details!"

 

He walked over to his car door, and Jack was right behind him.

 

Bitty had one last question before he stepped in his car and drove home to a very sad Kent Parson.

 

"Is this...Is this a date?" He asked. 

 

Jack blushed and shrugged, scratching his head again. "Uh. Yeah, I think it is. Is that, uh. Okay?"

 

Bitty tried to suppress his smile. "Yeah." 

 

Jack smiled back. "See ya."

 

"See ya." 

 

(Bitty promptly screamed in his car and blasted Beyoncé, not caring that it took him an extra twenty minutes to get home. Jack walked into his apartment, looked at his kitchen, grabbed Bitty's gift and went to bed. The smile on his face for the rest of the night was so big he tried to hide it in his (new, really weird and random) pillow so he'd stop. 

It didn't work.)


	12. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack asked Eric out and these are the (amazing) consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm an idiot and totally forgot Del's closes around fall/winter, so that date was cancelled! But I was planning on doing something along these lines anyways, so there's not a /huge/ wrench in my plan. And I bet you guys think I'm lying when I say there's a Dunkin on every street. There really is. It is a Masshole's lifeblood.   
> It is super fluffy and a little angsty and it was so difficult to write bc I kept squealing omg it was hilarious  
> Kudos are appreciated! I hope you guys enjoy!! :-)

Eric Bittle was going on a date. To say he was freaking out was a gross understatement.

 

He made a pie for the date.

 

"You're not even supposed to do that on dates!" He almost yelled on the phone.

 

"Bits," Lardo tried to comfort him. "He'll think it's cute. Besides, his parents are still at his apartment, right?"

 

Bitty thought for a moment. "Uh, yeah. But why? And how did you know that?"

 

Somehow, Bitty could _tell_  that Lardo was smirking like the smartass she was. "Mrs. Zimmermann and I are best friends."

 

"Mmhmm. So, what do I do?" He thought for a moment, putting down the phone to rummage around for his nice button-up shirt. "I _could_  just leave it here." He smiled. "Kent would probably--oh my goodness." His smile fell into a grimace. 

 

"Bitty? Everything okay?"

 

Bitty felt queasy. "Lardo. What about Kent?"

 

Every second of silence sent him into further panic mode.

 

Finally, she said, "He has to handle that Jack doesn't belong to him."

 

"What about _me_? Our friendship?" His voice was squeaky. He tried to take a deep breath.

 

"Bitty," She consoled, "if he really is a good friend, he'll learn to overlook this?"

 

"Oh, by this, you mean dating his ex-boyfriend of five years?" Bitty sat down on his bed in a huff. He buried his head in his hands.

 

He didn't open his eyes, trying to deal with his inner turmoil. It wasn't that much better around his room, however, with clothes carelessly strewn everywhere because Bitty was previously worried about what to wear for the date that was going to happen in _two hours_.

 

He groaned as if he had a horrible migraine. "Laarrrrddooooooooo. What do I do?"

 

Lards responded in a commandeering voice. "Eric Richard Bittle, you are going to find a cute outfit and not worry about Kent Parson for this /one/ night that's all about you. You're going to be with your sad-eyed boy and you're going to make him happy. You're going to give the Zimmermanns a pie because Jack won't eat it all. You're going to have fun, Bits." Pause. "Are you still there?"

 

Bitty was smiling against his palm. "Yeah, sugar. I'm here. I love you, by the way."

 

She chuckled. "I know. Love you too, you dork."

 

Bitty stood up and went back to his closet.

 

"So, how are you? Is that art series going okay?"

 

She sighed melodramatically and Bitty could _swear_  breath blew out of the receiver end of the phone (he had a prediction he'd never told another soul: he thought that Lardo was really the human embodiment magic, or at least a witch).

 

"Well, I've gotten through about three of the five total pieces I'm supposed to do, but." She sounded like she was trying to cover up her disappointment. "It's just--it's not turning out the way I want it to. It looks like crap, to be honest." She let out a self-deprecating laugh.

 

"Listen here, Larissa Duan." Now it was Bitty's turn to get stern. "Every piece of art you make is a part of you. You told me that once, remember?" She uhhuh'd. "So. Love yourself. Finish the other two pieces, and look at the whole picture. Don't focus on the details or you'll drive yourself crazy."

 

Then Bitty sighed. "I don't know. I'm not good with pep talks. If you need anything, I'm here. And," he added, trying to lighten the mood, "Shitty would be _thrilled_  to model for you."

 

She laughed a little. "Don't I know it." They let the comfortable silence stretch a few seconds. "Sorry for moping. You go have fun on your date and be your adorable self."

 

Bitty giggled excitedly. "I'm going on a date with Jack Zimmermann. I mean, I'm _really_  going on a date with him. Oh my goodness. I'm gonna be redder than my moomaw's home-grown tomatoes the whole time!"

 

"Bye, Bitty."

 

"Goodness. Bye, sweetheart."

 

~~~

 

Eric Bittle stood in front of Jack's door, pie clutched tightly to his chest. After another minute of psyching himself up, he finally knocked. Another thought of Kent crossed his mind, but he forced it away because _he was going to have fun_.

 

Jack opened the door with a shy smile on his face and a nice blue button-down that complemented his eyes. Was Bitty dead? Had he gone to heaven?

 

"Hey, Bittle."

 

He couldn't help the smile that broke across his face. "Howdy, Mr. Zimmermann."

 

He rolled his eyes playfully. "You southerners."

 

He let Bitty in and after setting the pie on the counter, Bits turned and crossed his arms across his chest. "You _northerners_."

 

Jack grinned and they looked at each other, smiling excitedly like kids.

 

Mr. and Mrs. Zimmermann chose that moment to walk in and the two younger ones broke their gaze quickly, as if being caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

 

"Hi Mr. and Mrs.--"

 

"Bitty," Alicia lightly reprimanded. "You can call us by our first names. It's okay! We don't bite."

 

They smiled at each other. "Okay, I'll try," Bitty relented. "But it won't be easy because of the ole' southerner in me." He set a sly glance towards Jack, who tried to hide his grin.

 

Bitty continued the conversation and told them about the pie. The parents Zimmermann gushed excitedly about eating it and promised that it would probably be gone before Jack even came back.

 

After another minute of joking around with Jack's parents, Bitty was dragged out by his scarf (why was Jack always dragging him places with his scarves?).

 

When the door shut, Jack let out a tired sigh, eyes closed and head lifted up, leaning on the wall. "Thank G-d. I thought we'd never leave."

 

Finally, he looked down at Bitty and smiled sweetly, a smile only meant for him. He held out his hand. "C'mon." Jack tilted his head to the elevator.

 

Bitty blushed all the way to the roots of his hair, but took Jack's hand nonetheless and was dragged down the stairs. "We are not going in an elevator ever again," Jack stated and Bitty laughed. (Bitty didn't catch the way Jack's heart sweetened at the sound. His eyes said everything. Bitty was looking down at his feet, making sure he wouldn't miss a step; but Jack was looking at him.)

 

Once outside, Bitty immediately closed in on himself. "Did it get a thousand degrees colder in the twenty minutes I was inside?" He said begrudgingly.

 

Jack shook his head ruefully and squeezed Bitty's hand a little more. "You _southerners_."

 

Bitty pretend-glared at him. "Don't make me mad."

 

Jack was intrigued. He stopped walking to his car and turned towards Bitty with an eyebrow raised. "Or what?"

 

Bitty smiled and let go of Jack's hand only to playfully shove him.

 

"I'm guessing you get your flirting technique from Shitty and Lardo," Jack quipped, trying to catch Bitty's hands ('try and catch these hands, Zimmermann,' a funny voice in the back of Bitty's mind whispered. He tried not to laugh).

 

Jack, much to Bitty's joy, didn't even try to fight back. He just let Bitty try and climb on his back and grunt as he tried to get him in a headlock. After a while, Bitty got tired. He hopped off and said, "Now I'm cold _and_ tired."

 

Jack laughed and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, hugging him close to his side. "Let's get to my car then. We were _going_  to do that until you decided to wrestle me."

 

Bitty poked his side half-heartedly. "I won, by the way."

 

Jack huffed. "Okay. Whatever you say."

 

Bitty subconsciously leaned into the sideways-walk-hug-thing, muttering, "I'd fight you right now but the coldness is _literally_  draining me."

 

Finally they arrived at Jack's (really nice) car. Like a gentleman, Jack opened the door and smirked at Bitty's blush. (Jack thought he was so cute. He swore he was going to die on this date. (Date!!!! They're going on a date!!!))

 

Once they were on the road, the heating was working, and Bitty was more comfortable, Jack told Bitty the bad news. "Unfortunately," Jack said somberly (which made Bitty's stomach flip. "Noooo!!!!" His mind screamed, even though he had no idea what was going on.) "Del's is not opened during the late fall through early spring."

 

"So there's no date?" Bitty asked miserably before he could stop himself.

 

Jack laughed. "No! There's still a date." Bitty gave a sigh of relief and Jack laughed. "Are you always this on edge?"

 

"Only when it comes to you, trust me."

 

Jack continued to smile and decided to talk further about the date rather than dwell on that comment. "Instead, we're going to get some hot chocolate and go somewhere."

 

Bitty turned to him and gripped his arm lightly. (Jack couldn't help but notice how _small_  Bitty's hands were.) "Where are we going?" The excitement in his voice was palpable.

 

Jack just grinned, still looking at the road. Bitty gasped. "Is this a _surprise_ , Mr. Zimmermann?"

 

Jack just shrugged one large, buff shoulder. "No," Bitty told himself in his head. "It's just a _shoulder_. Get ahold of yourself. Goodness."

 

Bitty turned forward as well, defiantly not looking at Jack (or his big hunky shoulders (NO!)).

 

After a few minutes, Bitty wad guessing every building he saw.

 

"Cardi's Furniture Superstore."

 

"No."

 

"Dunkin' Donuts."

 

"No."

 

"Tim Hortons."

"Well--no. No." Jack seemed to hesitate.

 

Bitty grinned. "You northerners with your Canadian coffee."

 

Jack glanced at him with a small smile. "Keep it up and I'll drive you straight home."

 

Bitty pretended to freak out. "Oh, no! You can't! My poor southern heart would break!"

 

Jack shrugged again. Bitty went back to the building game.

 

"Macy's. Dave's. Dunkin' Donuts. Panera. Dunkin' Donuts. McDonald's."

 

Jack cut in, "Oh yeah. We're going to McDonald's. They have good chicken fingers."

 

Bitty stilled as the car came to a stop sign, the Mickey D's about 100 feet away. "Wait," he said. "You're not serious, are you?"

 

Jack just looked at him with a raised eyebrow (he has to stop _doing things_  that make Bitty want to kiss him. It's downright criminal). Then he couldn't help but quirk the side of his mouth and Bitty relaxed against the seat and said in relief, "My goodness, I thought you were serious for a second."

 

"Of course not," he replied. "I wait until the third date to take all my dates to McDonald's."

 

Bitty laughed and Jack really couldn't hold back his own wide grin.

 

Soon enough, they pulled up to the local rink.

 

Bitty looked at Jack in disbelief. "I didn't peg you to be someone cheesy."

 

Jack shrugged and unbuckled. "Just wait."

 

Bitty tugged at his lip with his teeth because he got such a squishy feeling inside with this boy and wanted to contain as much crazy as possible.

 

Jack opened the door _yet again_  and offered his hand _yet again_  and if Bitty had to record his inner monologue of this entire date, all five hours of it would be Bitty just squealing.

 

Jack brought his own skates and left Bitty to the rentals (the traitor). While Bits was struggling with tying his skates, Jack was playfully tugging on either end of the scarf next to him.

 

"I wish you told me to bring my skates," Bitty grumbled. "By the way, what's with your obsession with my scarf?"

 

Jack just blushed and ducked his hand, hands still lightly clutched to the warm red fabric. "I don't know. You look cute in it. I don't know."

 

Eric Bittle almost passed out. "Stop it," he said, in a way that clearly said "please don't stop." His fingers fumbled with the frayed laces a little longer before Jack sighed impatiently and smacked his hands away, tying either skate for him.

 

"What a gentleman," Bitty remarked.

 

Jack stood taller, acting smug. "What can I say? I'm a mama's boy, remember?" At the remark Bitty turned red (maybe he just stayed perpetually red for the whole date, because that's how it felt).

 

On the ice, they skated around, sometimes holding hands but mostly just goofing around. They had a race and Bitty won.

 

"How do you stay in shape?" Jack asked, out of breath, his hands on his knees as he tried to breathe again.

 

Bitty shrugged one slender shoulder. "I don't usually eat my pies. I just take a bite to make sure they're perfect."

 

"Do you work out?"

 

Bitty shrugged. "I go to my gym once or twice a week."

 

"Where do you go?"

 

"Fitness World."

 

Jack gasped overzealously.

 

Bitty tried not to grin. "What?"

 

Jack stood up and looked from side to side before gesturing for Bitty to come closer. Once Bits obeyed, Jack whispered, "That's the enemy gym of where Kent works."

 

Bitty gasped just as dramatically. "My _goodness_. What _ever_  shall we do?"

 

Jack smiled and leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on Bitty's cheek. "We go get hot chocolate now because you're freezing."

 

Bitty was so giddy he wanted to do a spin on the ice. But he contained himself because he has _self control_. Instead, he tried to go for nonchalant and shrugged noncommittally. "Whatever."

 

Jack just grinned and offered his hand again.

 

Bitty took it. He'd reach for that hand the rest of his life if given the chance.

 

The two nerds both took a sip at a table near the rink.

 

And spit it all over the ice, swearing colorfully.

 

"Oh my fuck!" Jack said, fanning his mouth to try and cool it down.

 

Bitty shoved a napkin in his own mouth, muffling a "goodness gracious!"

 

After their mouths cooled down, their eyes locked and it was quiet for a moment between them before the two began laughing hysterically.

 

"That was--"

 

"Oh my gosh that was funny--"

 

"And your _spit take_ \--"

 

"Yours went everywhere!--"

And the poor kid skating nearby--"

 

"The look--"

 

"Oh goodness--"

 

"He--" giggles, "He looked like he wanted to throw something at us!"

 

Bitty snorted he was laughing so much before covering his mouth in disbelief.

 

"I have never made that sound in my life," he swore to Jack.

 

The latter just giggled more. The fact that this giant specimen of a human _giggled_  made the world a much better place.

 

After their laughing calmed down, they decided to leave with their lava-level hot chocolates and head to where Jack wanted to have dinner. "Only if you want, I don't mean to take control of the whole--"

 

"Honey, I'm having so much fun. I trust that you won't actually take me to McDonald's and that's all that matters."

 

Jack smiled gratefully. "Okay, good. Because I made reservations and I still don't know how to cancel them."

 

Bitty stopped in the middle of the parking lot. Jack noticed after stepping he next few steps without a short baker next to him. He turned, looking confusedly at Bitty. "What's wrong?"

 

"Jack," Bitty finally got his feet to move and stepped in front of the taller boy. He fiddled with his own scarf and Jack's eyes glanced down before looking back to Bitty. "You got us reservations? Isn't that expensive? I might be underdressed! Let me pay--"

 

"Bitty," Jack interrupted. "Please. I think I'm good for it." He smiled, trying to catch Bitty's gaze and reassure him.

 

Finally Bitty relented. "Fine. But I'm not happy about it, Mr. Zimmermann. I'm just going to have to spoil you on our next date."

 

Jack's smile grew larger. "So there's going to be a next date?"

 

Bitty blushed, looked down at his feet again. "Only--only if you want to. I mean--I'm having fun. Um."

 

Jack tugged on Bitty's scarf a little. "So am I."

 

The restaurant wasn't _too_  fancy, but there was a nice tablecloth and The menu was in cursive.

 

Jack squinted at it. "Can you read any of this?"

 

Bitty just shook his head. "Hell no."

 

Jack glanced up and grinned at Bits before turning back to the menu, squinting once again (like an old man). There goes that fluttery feeling in Bitty's rib cage again. Goodness.

 

Jack ordered the chicken fingers. Bitty glared at him. He shrugged with a shit-eating smile on his face.

 

Bitty himself ordered pasta with the homemade sauce. He told the waiter, "I just love home recipes. They taste so much better, don't they?"

 

The waiter, young and clean-cut, smiled. "I know," he said. "And I know you'll love the pasta." There was a glint in his eyes, but Bitty thought he was just being nice.

 

Jack huffed. Bitty furrowed his brows? "What? Is there something on my face?"

 

He shook his head, looking a little irked. Bitty's heart fell. "What's wrong?"

 

Jack was staring behind Bitty, but when their eyes met, Jack quickly tried to back-pedal, "Bitty, no, it wasn't--you didn't do _anything_." Bits's heart started beating at its normal speed again.

 

Jack continued. "It's just the waiter."

 

The baker looked confused. "What about him? He seemed nice."

 

Jack looked at Bittle incredulously. "You're telling me you _didn't_  notice the way he was looking at you? Flirting with you?"

 

Bitty shook his head. "No. I just thought he--he was being nice. Lots of people are nice."

 

"Of course they are--to _you_." He waited a moment and raised an eyebrow. "People flirt with you all the time, don't they?"

 

Bitty blushed and smiled self-deprecatingly. "Psh. No."

 

Jack's smile got bigger. Bitty tried not to smile back, but it was contagious. "What?"

 

Jack continued to just--look at him.

 

"I'm not going to say something because it will be too cheesy and then you won't look at me for another ten minutes because you're so flustered."

 

Bitty kicked him lightly on the table. "This is our first date! You're not supposed t'know me that well yet!"

 

Jack just grinned and they shared their horror stories about Shitty.

 

"You guys hang out a lot, I guess," Bitty hmph'd. "You're better friends with my friends than _I_ am with my friends."

 

Jack giggled. "No, Shitty just has this weird protective obsession with me. His words, not mine."

 

Bitty laughed. "At least he'll stop stalking me for a bit."

 

Jack giggled even more.

 

"What?"

 

He tried to speak through his wheezes. "You...you said 'bit'."

 

Bitty threw his napkin down and leaned back in his chair. "I will leave _right now_  if--"

 

Jack grabbed his hands, trying to stop laughing still. "Please stay."

 

Psh. As if he'd _actually_  leave. But, Bitty is dramatic if nothing else. So, he looked to the side with an unamused mask for a face, and shrugged a shoulder delicately. "I have nothing better to do anyways." Jack's smile grew, and the corners of his eyes crinkled (out of this whole thing, take a shot every time you see the word "smile"--these boys gaze at each other with grins _so much_ ).

 

Their food arrived and they ate leisurely. Bitty kept on praising the food, and at least four times--Jack counted--the waiter would come back and ask about their meals (looking mostly at a blissed-out Bitty--he really _did_  love home recipes). Jack tried to give a smaller tip once they finished, _just above_  legal, but Bitty pinched his shoulder and placed a five-dollar bill on top.

 

Jack raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed at Bitty. "Should I be worried about something?"

 

Bitty just grinned and shook his head. "I'm not letting you go that easy, Mr. Zimmermann."

 

Jack blushed, but tried to hide it.

 

When they walked out, the waiter said goodbye and Jack waved back in kind, which Bitty thought was very nice of Jack. Bitty didn't seem to notice the way Jack's arm tightened around his shoulders and his eyes held a slightly threatening glint that said "he's mine."

 

The ride back was actually kind of quiet. Bitty turned the radio on and leaned his head on his hand, which rested on the center console. Jack felt warm all over, partially because of the singular glass of wine, partially because of his time already spent with Bitty.

 

And mostly because Bitty was singing softly to a delicate song on the radio.

 

Jack liked to listen to the Oldies radio on SiriusXM; it played forties and fifties songs.

 

The singer--Mama Cass, Jack remembers from a distant memory of when he was in the den with his mother--crooned about stars shining bright above you.

 

"I love this song," Jack whispered, knowing that he and Bitty were in a private bubble that the rest of the world couldn't touch.

 

Bitty smiled a small crescent that reminded Jack of nights spent on his frozen lake in Montreal, glancing up at the stars before chucking the puck in the center of a net.

 

"Dream a little dream of me," Bitty whispered, his voice like soft silk brushing against hesitant fingers.

 

Speaking of hesitant fingers, Bitty's free hand slowly crawled to the back of Jack's and gently ran his index from the middle finger to the outside of his wrist.

 

It sent thrilling tingles down both boys' spines.

 

"Stars fading, but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss."

 

And at that moment Jack parked into the lot that belonged to his apartment building. There was literally nothing else on his mind besides Bitty.

 

Eric Bittle himself was shaking inside. He didn't know if--with the whole hand thing--he was being too weird. When his finger first touched Jack's, the driver took a sharp breath in, as if it knocked him out. Despite his hesitation, however, Bitty kept it up. "Go big or go home," he mused in his head.

 

When they parked, Bitty panicked. Like, really panicked. He was about to recoil and jump out of the car and literally run to another country--

 

Until he saw Jack's face.

 

His eyes were closed, and he looked so peaceful. Not smiling, but--and Bits didn't know how he could tell--happy nonetheless.

 

When his eyes slowly opened, he stared down at Bitty, and the last notes of the song crooned out and faded away.

 

Neither could look away. The air was electric. Jack knew what he wanted to do, and he could see the worry, but also the innate _hope_  in Bitty's eyes that Jack would lean in.

 

So he did.

 

Their eyes were still open, Bitty now sitting up and forward. Their lips were only inches away. Their hands were shaking.

 

Jack finally closed his eyes, slowly, not wanting to break the emotional tether their gazes formed. Bitty followed, trusting in him, trusting in this moment that things were finally okay.

 

And Bitty's phone rang.The bubble had popped.

 

Bitty groaned and pressed his forehead to Jack's shoulder.

 

"What the hell, universe?" he muttered. Despite the annoyance, Jack huffed out a laugh. Bitty could feel the reverberation and settled for kissing his shoulder instead of the _other thing he really wanted to do, universe_. He leaned back into his own seat, taking his phone begrudgingly.

 

"Hello?"

 

"Dicky!" His mom yelled excitedly.

 

"Hey Mama."

 

"Did you see our new follower count on that one recipe on Pinterest?"

 

Bitty rolled his eyes. "No Mama, but m'guessin' it was good?"

 

"Oh sweetheart! Fifty people pinned it!" She sounded positively elated.

 

Bitty glanced at Jack who was grinning as if he thought this whole phone-ruining-everything thing was entertaining. Bitty stuck his tongue out at him, but Jack just continued to smile. (Jack was _really_  smiling because Bitty was _such_  a mama's boy and whenever he talked to her, his voice got a little deeper and a lot more southern-y. Jack loved everything about Bitty, but this was especially great.)

 

"Mama, I'm kind of busy right now, can I call you--"

 

Even Jack could hear the gasp (although, since the rest of the car was quiet, he could really hear the whole thing; he pretended he didn't). "Are you on a _date_?"

 

Bitty glanced at Jack embarrassingly and tried not to smile. "Um. Yeah, Mama. I am."

 

"OOOOH!! Who is it, Dicky? Do I know her?"

 

Bitty's smile dropped and he bit his lip self-consciously. "It's Jack, actually," he tried to feign complete confidence (but Jack could see how much Bitty was struggling). "I told you about him, remember?" He tried to laugh. "For, like, hours. He's the one who--"

 

"Don't tell your father," She finally muttered. "You won't be able to come home if you do."

 

Then, Eric Bittle's mother hung up on him.

 

Bitty wanted to break down, but he felt someone's eyes on him. The baker took a deep breath and tried not to make his voice wobble when he said, "You didn't hear all that, did you?" He let out a short, self-deprecating laugh.

 

Bitty didn't even glance up, too afraid of what he was going to see, not ready to deal with anything. He even wanted to ignore the conversation his mom just said.

 

A door opened and shut, and then Bitty's own door opened. Jack gently held on to Bitty's hands, tugging them away from his face. Bitty just looked down in shame, eyes screwed shut (he was afraid  that if he opened them, the tears would spill out).

 

Jack tugged a little more and said quietly, "C'mon Bits. Let's go watch a movie. Our little date isn't over yet, I'll have you know."

 

Bitty took a deep breath and finally opened his eyes, tears now trailing down his face. He smiled only a little (as much as he could). "It better not be one of your boring sports movies."

 

Jack smiled because Bitty was (finally). "No. But it's a surprise." Bitty looked down at their clasped hands and his small smile fell. More tears fell (not of free will). Jack took his hands away and Bitty immediately missed the warm touch, but the taller boy just wiped away his tears with an index finger. "C'mon, Bits." He nudged his shoulder. "Wanna cuddle?"

 

"Yes please."

 

So Jack wrapped his arms around the other boy and smuggled him up to the room (using the elevator because "of special circumstances--it will never happen again if I can help it").

 

Bitty huffed what could be considered a laugh only if you had super hearing. Jack saw that as an accomplishment.

 

 

(Bob and Alicia were asleep, so Jack and Bitty were alone on the couch. Jack made sure Bitty stayed on the couch while he made the popcorn and popped the movie in. For once Bitty didn't help, but he leaned over the couch and offered some tips on how to make it better. Jack followed dutifully.

 

They watched a quiet documentary about World War II, and Bitty thought he'd hate it. But, with Jack enveloping him close to his chest so that Bitty's ear was on his heart, he found the narrator's voice soothing.

 

He didn't mean to fall asleep, but when Jack looked down and saw those lines of worry disappear in Bitty's face because of sleep, he himself drifted off.

 

It may not have been a perfect date, but Jack was happier than he'd been in a while.

 

That's the last thing he thought as he tugged the blanket more over the two of them, rested his cheek on Bitty's soft hair, and fell into unconsciousness.)


	13. Pancakes and Bad Dad Bob Jokes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I. Am an asshole. I'm so sorry for not updating in forever. No excuse except high school. I'm sorry!!! I love you guys. Ugh. Why am I a horrible human???!!!! Enjoy this at least. You've all earned more than what I can give you today. Ill make it up to y'all!!! Also, it's short. Sorry. There aren't enough apologies in the world for you guys.

                Jack woke with a start. There was a fluffy blanket on him and he heard laughing in the kitchen.

                He looked over the couch and saw Bitty making something while his mom and dad chatted with him. He looked comfortable and at home.           

                The domesticity was going to kill Jack.

                Bitty looked towards the couch and actually _beamed_ , like the sun. And it was all directed at him. Jack could sink into the floor. He would if he could. His insides felt squishy.

                He stood up with a wobble because he wasn’t a morning person. Bitty grinned but just said, “Good morning Mr. Zimmermann.”

                Alicia and Bob both looked at him incredulously. ‘You brought this person home? Good job, son,’ their eyes said with a glint.

                Jack scratched his head and sat at the counter next to his dad. Bitty was making pancakes. “They told me you like banana walnut?” Bitty glanced up from the stove to make sure he didn’t mess up Jack’s pancakes.

                Jack nodded silently, his cheeks going pink. Bitty flustered him. It was too early. And—oh, shit. He was wearing Jack’s shirt. Jack stuttered before spitting out, “Did you raid my closet?”

                Bitty laughed. “No, your parents did.” Jack glared at his parents. Did they know what this was doing to him?

                Bob grinned. “Jack, are you all ruffled about that? Why don’t you, simmer, man?” Alicia snorted into her coffee. Eric giggled (which drove Jack crazy). Jack banged his head on the counter.

                “It’s too early, Dad.”

                “Never too early for a zinger, son!” Bob got up and filled a coffee cup for Jack anyways.

                Bitty finished the pancakes after a few more minutes. Every person got three of their favorite type. They all sat at the counter, Bitty standing to see the verdict.

                The sounds that the three Zimmermanns made were downright primitive. Bitty blushed. Also, was _that_ much maple syrup really necessary??

                Jack looked up and smiled with his mouth closed and full. Bitty grinned back.

***

                When breakfast was finished, Jack looped his arm around Bitty and dragged him to the couch. Mr. and Mrs. Zimmermann were going out for…something… To be honest, neither boy was paying attention when the older couple walked out the door. And, to be honest, the parents Zimmermann just left to give those two some quality time alone (wink wink).

                On the couch, Jack positioned the both of them so that Bitty was half sitting on his lap, facing Jack. They both looked at each other with stupid grins. Jack took Bitty’s small hands and wrapped his paws (that’s how big they were!! Bitty was dead!!) around them. “I’m glad you didn’t ditch in the middle of the night.”

                Bitty blushed and looked down at their hands. “Couldn’t pass up the chance to sleep with a Zimmermann, now could I?” He felt Jack’s chest rumble with his low laugh.

                “I could make a comment about my dad but I’d rather not.”

                Bitty buried his head in Jack’s shoulder. “Ugh. Stop. Shut up. Don’t do this to me.”

                Jack retracted his paws and wrapped his arms around Bitty instead. Eric lifted his head up and looked up at Jack as if he couldn’t believe this is where his life took him. In the arms of this Greek god. So incandescently happy. It was unbelievable.

                “Your eyes are so blue…” Bitty muttered, staring into them like he couldn’t swim out.

                Jack’s breath caught in his chest when Bitty tilted his head a little closer, so that their noses were almost touching.

                “Is this okay?” Bitty whispered. They were back in The Bubble, and Bitty pushed away what happened last time they were in The Bubble.

                Jack wordlessly nodded, his hands gripping Bitty’s—no, _his_ —shirt a little tighter. Bitty smiled, a small, delicate thing, and leaned forward. His hands rested on Jack’s chest. He could feel his heartbeat. How it quickened.

                It was light, gentle at first. Their lips brushed and Bitty’s eyes were hooded and cross-eyed. He worried that if he shut them, he would wake up from this dream. The kiss tasted of syrup and bananas. It was a funny combination, but it made Jack’s mouth taste all the sweeter.

                Bitty finally shut his eyes, and moved forward a little more, the kiss deepening incrementally. Jack made a noise in the back of his throat and hugged Bitty closer to him. Bitty giggled into the next swell of their lips, but Jack was focused. It was 0 or 110 percent with him. Bitty felt lightheaded with all the focus Jack had towards him. It was intoxicating.

                Bitty’s arms came around Jack’s neck and he licked tentatively at Jack’s lips, tasting some of that sugar. Jack responded instantly, parting his lips to welcome Bitty. His own tongue pressed against Bitty’s lips.

                Both of them were in heaven. And that’s what they did for close to an hour. At some point, Jack had turned them over so Bitty was being pressed into the couch. He was oddly comforted by Jack’s weight. No complaints from him.

                However, a knock interrupted them from their moment of peace. Jack groaned and pressed his forehead against Bitty’s, who just brought his hands to Jack’s face and stroked his cheeks.

                “Time for the real world,” Bitty muttered, a little bitterly.

                Jack groaned again. “Noooooo.”

                Bitty kissed his cheek and then pushed his shoulder.

                Jack got up reluctantly and walked to the door. When he opened it, he gaped.

                Kent was there.

                He had some flowers in his hands.

                “Hey Zimms. Didja miss me?”

                (Bitty ducked behind the couch. He knew this would end _greatly._ )

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't deserve them, but kudos and comments would make my day.


	14. A Greek God and a Baker Walk into a Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kent appears out of nowhere. Bitty hides under a blanket. Jack tries to stay cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, guys. We're here. After MONTHS of putting my heart and soul into this (and then going on an unplanned hiatus, again, sorry!!) we've made it. I want to personally thank everyone who had read this. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. I love all of you. Thank you.  
> I own none of these characters. They own me tho!! lmao sryyyy gtg  
> ***ALSO*** I might to do like spin-off one-shots in this universe, so if anyone has any prompts they want fulfilled (can be nsfw but will be locked so, get an account if you don't have one!!) just type one up in the comments!!

            Kent Parson was at Jack Zimmermann’s door. With flowers. And Bitty hiding behind the couch. After Jack and Bitty had been making out for the better part of an hour.

            “Can I come in?” Kent asked, trying with his cool bravado but Jack knew him well enough to hear the unsure wobble that underlined the question.

            Jack cleared his throat. “Uh, no,” pushing them out into the hallway and shutting the door behind them. “The apartment’s a mess and my parents are in there, you know.” Jack shrugged apologetically.

            Kent nodded, not really believing him but ignoring it anyways. It was time for Parse to swallow his pride. So, instead of ripping Jack a new one, he thrust the water lilies towards him. “These are for you. As an apology. For your birthday party.” _And for everything else_ , Kent spoke without saying anything, the words hanging in the air between them.

            Jack’s heart ached. Because he knew the person in front of him inside and out, and he’d hated that person for so long after their disastrous end. And he’d always have random tidbits in his head, like which side of the bed Kent liked to sleep on, what types of lighting evoked what color in his eyes, how he eats the bottom of the cupcake first, because “the top is the best part and I wanna savor it, dumbass.” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

            Jack took the flowers and nodded in thanks. Kent leaned against the door, lightly resting his head and closing his eyes. “The…the girl I was with. Her name’s Casey. She works at the gym. She’s nice.”

            Why was Kent telling Jack this? But Jack knew that Kent had to say his peace, so he stayed quiet.

            “But. She’s not you. And I know we’re not gonna get back together. But,” and Kent pushed himself off of the wall, gaining a sort of intensity that wasn’t there before. “We’ve been in each other’s lives since we were fourteen. For most of our time together, we were friends. And I don’t wanna lose my friend.”

            Kent slumped back into the wall, but Jack became brave and grabbed his shoulder, bringing him into a hug. A genuine, bro hug. “I don’t wanna lose you either.”

            Then, after a minute, when Kent sniffled into Jack’s neck, they separated, and Kent wiped at his eyes embarrassingly. Jack continued, a little meekly, “I’m gonna need some time before we jump back in, though. There’s, uh, there’s someone in my life right now, actually. And—“

            Kent grinned self-deprecatingly. “Bits?”

            Jack’s face must have given it away. “H-how did you—“

            “I hear him talking to you on the phone sometimes, and he has that lovesick puppy voice. And your eyes get soft whenever you see him, or even talk about him.” He gestured at Jack’s face for (unneeded) emphasis.

            Jack began to look sheepish. “Uh.”

            “Don’t worry, I’ve had time to come to terms. But,” Kent smiled ruefully, “I am NEVER third-wheeling. Lettin’ you know right off the bat. Because fuck that ish.”

            Jack chuckled. “Uh. Okay.”

            It was silent between them for a moment. Then Kent rolled his eyes. “Oh my fuck. He’s in your apartment right now, isn’t he!” It wasn’t even a question.

            A certain tall Canadian could feel his cheeks heating up.

            Kent kissed one of them and punched him in the shoulder (gotta love hypermasculinity). He started running down the hall. “I’ll see ya, Zimms! Use protection! I’ll make sure to remind Bits who got to that ass first!” Jack may or may not have sworn at him, before walking back into the apartment.

***

            Bitty was still behind the couch, only the top of his ruffled head sticking out. “I heard alla that and I want you to know because I can’t lie and I’m sorry.” He sunk back under the couch as if to hide.

            Jack laughed, and Bitty’s heart got all twisty. “I would have told you about it anyways.” He sat on the couch unceremoniously, and huffed when Bitty laid himself across his lap. He buried his face in the cushion. Jack rubbed his back comfortingly.

            After a few minutes of Bitty sinking into Jack Zimmermann Comfort, he shocked himself into a higher level of consciousness. He groaned into the couch. “I have to go to work in three hours. I don’t wannaaaaa.”

            “Call in sick.”

            Bitty turned his head to glare at Jack. “Oh, yeah, Mr. Zimmermann? And what would we do all day, sit on the couch and do absolutely nothing?”

            Jack shrugged. “Sure. If you want.” At that moment, Bits knew that Jack would do anything Bitty wanted, and it kinda excited him. But, he just sat up on Jack’s lap and kissed him long and deep, before reluctantly getting up. Jack leaned forward to chase his lips nonetheless, so Bitty gave him a parting peck before standing up completely and stretching.

            “No, I have to go to work. Unlike _some_ millionares,” pointed look, “I have to do this to survive next month’s rent.”

            “And your bakery.”

            “And my bakery.”

            Jack got up reluctantly and joined Bitty at the door. He helped wrap the scarf around his neck, then wrapped it a few more times so Bitty got all flushed and the two playfully roughhoused before Jack ended it with a soft press of lips. That got Bitty to still _real_ quick.

            The ride back was filled with chatter, plans for another date and what they were doing this week. Jack was going to hang out with Shitty, Ransom, and Holster one night, and Bitty was going to check out the lot for his bakery.

            “Can I come?” Jack asked. Bitty agreed, smiling, but made Jack promise not to buy everything Bitty would say the place needed once they got there.

            Jack promised not to buy _everything,_ and so he only bought most of the stuff. The expensive stuff at which Bitty furrowed his eyebrows worriedly.

            Bitty glared at him, told him not to pull stunts like that anymore, and then proceeded to jump his bones.

            If that wasn’t incentive for Jack…

***

Three Years Later

            “Nursey, honey, can you cut that pie up and put a slice on display?” He nodded, humming Drake as he rummaged through the bakery in the back for the pie knife. “Thank you, honey.”

            Bitty went back to the front of the shop, watching Chowder pick for change in the register, handing it to a middle-aged man with a large smile on his face. “Have a good day!” He called after the man. Bitty wanted to punch him because the man didn’t give Chow a second glance. Bitty knew that ate at his employee, and better yet, friend (sometimes, he referred to Chris as his son, but that was nobody’s business (it was also common knowledge)).

            Bitty just rubbed his back and said, “Don’t worry about him, Chowder. We’ll put too much sugar in his coffee next time!” The younger boy laughed and smiled at Bitty gratefully.

            Just then, his phone rang. “Hello? Bitty’s Bakery, Bitty speaking!” He _really_ had to get a landline for the place.

            “Hey, Bits. We still on for tonight?”

            “Mr. Zimmermann, do not call me during work hours! Besides, _you’re_ working too! With…”

            “You know I can’t tell you, bud,”

            Bity rolled his eyes. “Fine. And yes, we are on for tonight.”

            He could practically hear Jack grin on the other side of the line. “Okay. Happy birthday.”

            “Thank you, sweetheart.”

_Click._

            The rest of the day went by like pretty much every other day. Except, when the bakery closed, Nurse, Chowder, and the numbers guy, Dex, all dragged Bitty to the back room where there was a pie and a single candle.

            “Happy birthday, Bittle,” Dex said without much hurrah.

            Nursey bumped his shoulder. “Dude, try not to treat it like a funeral.”

            Bitty grinned. “Aw, thank y’all for giving me a pie that I baked myself!” They all started to turn red (except Nursey, for obvious reasons), but Bitty clucked. “Hush, I was just kidding. Thank you guys so much. C’mere.”

            A prerogative for working at Bitty’s Bakery was hugging, lots of hugging. That one took Dex a while to get used to.

            “Now, I can’t eat this tonight because I have a hot date—“ Whoops and hollers from the three, “—yes, yes. So, I gotta run, but I’ll see y’all on Monday.”

            “Is Holster working Monday?” Nursey asked.

            “And Lardo?” Added Chowder.

            Bitty hmm’d in thought. “Lardo’s going to Boston to meet up with Shitty, but I’m pretty sure Holster’s on!”

            Nursey lightly fist-bumped the air.

            “Okay, I really gotta run. Can you guys tidy up and then lock up?” They all nodded, grinning as if they had a secret. Bitty raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he grabbed his stuff and changed into nicer clothes before walking to his car.

            Jack had sent him the address to the place they had their first date, along with adding, “If that damn waiter is there giving you eyes, I’m going to fight him.” Jack had gotten a lot more territorial in the past three years.

            Bitty was nervous about this date. It was on his birthday, it was at the restaurant of his first date, and his friends had been giving him looks for the past week. He didn’t want to assume, but…

            Jack was waiting outside when he got there. “Hey, Bits.” He looked gorgeous in a blue button down and trim black pants that made his ass look _great_.

            Just like the first time, Bitty felt underdressed, as he told Jack. “You look amazing,” He replied, looking into Bitty’s eyes as if he were the only person in the universe. They kissed lightly, for no more than five seconds, and yet Bitty’s toes still curled. And then he shivered.

            Jack chuckled and wrapped his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, tugging playfully at his scarf. “Let’s get your cute southern ass inside.”

            They ate dinner, and Jack ordered cheap champagne (because, frankly, the expensive stuff tasted like death). They talked about their first date and other memories, along with what happened that day. Jack still wouldn’t budge about the hockey player he was helping that day.

            Then came the dessert. Jack pulled the waiter aside and whispered something, and he nodded before rushing to the chef. Bitty squinted his eyes suspiciously, but Jack just shrugged.

            Soon enough, a pie was sat in front of them. Just a slice. And on the top (because Jack didn’t want it to get dirty or for Bitty to eat it accidentally) there it was.

            “Eric.”

            Bitty could already feel tears.

            There was a simple ring, a small diamond sparkling at the top. Jack took it, and coughed loudly. Soon, people from different tables came over to them. Bitty, through his tears, could recognize the faces. Lardo, Shitty, Ransom, Holster, Dex, Nursey, Chowder...

            Kent.

            Bitty couldn’t hold back anymore. He was shaking. Jack knelt in front of him, his hands shaking and his eyes watering.

            “Eric Richard Bittle. You know I’m not good at speeches. So I’m going to keep this short.” He cleared his throat, and it sounded like he was barely keeping himself together. “I love you. I love your smile, your laugh, your kindness, and your pies.” Bitty chuckled wetly. “I love your voice, your accent, and the honesty of your eyes.” _Oh my gosh,_ Bitty thought. _This is the cheesiest thing to happen to me. I’m so in love._ “I love your voice when you sing Beyoncé or when you talk about what matters to you. I love that after everything that’s happened in your life, your heart has stayed true.”

            Everyone was crying. A stranger was recording this. In the future, it becomes a hit on Youtube.

            “Eric Richard Bittle. I love everything about you, except for one thing. And that could be fixed if you accept this stupid ring.” Bitty rolled his eyes, lovingly. “Bits,” he lowered his voice. “Please. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want to try every day to make myself worthy of your love. I love you so much. So much.”

            Bitty put his hands to Jack’s cheeks and their eyes locked. He whispered so that only the two of them could hear. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, you are my world. If anyone’s unworthy, it’s me. You make me stronger. Every day you inspire me.” He cleared his throat so that everyone could hear, not breaking their gaze. “Yes. Of course.” And then, they kissed.

            Cheers erupted and Shitty blew his nose loudly and Ransom and Holster were holding each other’s hands.

            Bitty may not have had his parents there, but he did have his family.

(The wedding was in the summer in the Bahamas, per Bitty’s request. Somehow, Jack got Beyonce to perform at the reception, and their first dance as a married couple was to Halo. The last song of the night, when the two were back in their honeymoon suite, was Dream a Little Dream of Me.

They adopt two children, a baby boy from China and a seven year old girl stuck in the foster care system.

They grow old together.

They never stop loving each other.)

 


End file.
